


Here's the Deal

by Lilian_Silver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Angst, Angst and Humor, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack and Angst, Dark Crack, Dark Hermione Granger, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Hate Sex, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Light Bondage, Love/Hate, crack fic adjacent, dubcon elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-11-16 10:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilian_Silver/pseuds/Lilian_Silver
Summary: 8th Year Dramione - they get engaged in The Great Hall™ ...but is everything what it seems?No of course it's not, dipshit.





	1. The First Chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> This was a random idea I put on tumblr and a lot of people wanted me to keep going, so here you go!
> 
> LilianSilverStuff on tumblr
> 
> Dub-con elements aka rough hate-sex, but nothing truly malicious. If that ain't yo thang, go read one of my T-rated one-shots. They're cute. This one is not cute.

“Granger! Wait…"

Draco’s voice rang across the Great Hall, and every student in the place spun to look at him. He’d risen from the Slytherin table just at the end of dinner, and moved towards the door to head Hermione off before she could leave.

They were well into their 8th year at Hogwarts, and this sort of intrigue was out of the norm.

She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised with skepticism.

“Yes, Malfoy?”

He scoffed and looked away from her, clearly annoyed. “Come now, Hermione. I think we’re both ready to drop the act.”

She looked visibly unsettled at this and glanced around at the onlooking students nervously.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“I love you,” he said in a ringing voice that cascaded around the room, bounding off the stone walls for all to hear.

Hermione’s chest began heaving as she stared back at him, their eyes locked as if they were alone in the room.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t pretend. The truth-” he said, and then stopped to clear his throat, waiting a moment to gather his resolve before continuing. “The truth is that I want to be with you. Only you. Forever.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned bright red and her chest continued to heave. Draco moved forward and took both of her hands in his, and a few students near them gasped when she did not protest.

“Marry me, Hermione.”

The gasps that then rang throughout the hall were in perfect unison. A few students shouted things like “No!” and “What the bloody hell?!” and “Merlin’s pants!”

When the noise died down, all eyes were on Hermione. The silence was deafening as they awaited her response.

“Yes,” she said, her voice weak with tears, which then tumbled from her eyes as she leaned in and kissed Draco. They were both grinning from ear to ear, and after a moment of stunned silence, the hall was filled with cheers and applause. It was hesitant at first, but then grew and grew until everyone in the room seemed to be on the same page that this was a good thing.

When they broke the kiss, Hermione placed her forehead on Draco’s and continued smiling.

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Tongue, Malfoy, really?”

He responded in kind. “Just keep smiling, mudblood.”

She looked up into his eyes. “You are vile,” she said, and then kissed him again, this time taking care to bite on his bottom lip and drawing a bit of blood.  
“Fucking bitch,” he grumbled when she released her hold on him.

A small crowd had gathered around them at this point, and a Creevey cousin took their photo. Just as they had planned.

“Let’s get out of here before one of us loses our temper.”

“Do lead the way,” he said, offering her his hand. She grabbed it and pulled him out of the hall, as they both waved to their onlookers as though they were celebrities… which they sort of were.

They found the first empty classroom and charged in, Hermione quickly warding the door to prevent anyone from coming in or even near.

“What in the bloody hell was that, Malfoy?! I told you, no tongue in public or I would bite it off!”

“Well you didn’t make good on that threat today, so how am I supposed to take you seriously from here, Granger?”

She scoffed loudly. “How was I supposed to bite your tongue off when you’d just publicly proposed to me?!”

He shrugged. “Not my problem.”

“Ugh, you are infuriating and I can’t believe I ever agreed to this deal!”

He bowed. “My Father sends his regards by the way. The money will be in your Gringotts account within the hour. Now you can get on with your insane House Elf Liberation nonsense.”

“And you can get on with pretending you’re an upstanding member of society who deserves anything other than people’s suspicion and disdain!”

“That’s my plan, Granger.”

“Well good!”

“Good!”

They stared at each other, hatred sizzling in the air between them.

Then suddenly they were on top of one another. Kissing, biting, ripping, scratching.

“I only have ten minutes before the Prefect meeting,” she said hurriedly through panting breaths as she unbuttoned his shirt, continuing to kiss him aggressively.

“I think they’ll understand, since you just got engaged, now shut the fuck up and bend over.”

She pulled her mouth from his and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh no, I’m riding your cock, it’s my turn to be in charge.”

He rolled his eyes as he undid his trousers and pulled out his dick, which was already completely hard. “Fine then, but you have to suck me off first.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You should’ve known I would do that anyway, but not because of your demand. I enjoy it, it helps get me off.”

“Just get my dick in your mouth already, Granger. Maybe you can even make it to your precious meeting in time,” he said, pushing on her head to force her lower to the ground.

“You just better hope I don’t make good on my earlier promise,” she said, making a biting motion, her teeth clicking together.

His eyes went wide. “On second thoughts,” he said, scooping her up and falling back into the chair behind him. He reached up her skirt to confirm that she hadn’t been wearing knickers, and quickly slid himself into her. They both moaned in approval when he was buried in her extremely wet cunt.

“Ride away, Granger.”

She grunted in annoyance, but began bucking forward and back, seeking her release. She pressed her face into his neck, panting hard. Then she growled into his ear.

“I’m going to find you later and suck your cock. With just a little too much teeth.”

He ripped open her shirt and began sucking and biting everywhere he could reach.

“I don’t know, Granger, you don’t seem to be making good on your promises lately.”

“Malfoy, kindly shut the fuck up and stick a finger up my arse, like I said I only have ten minutes.”  
.  
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Hermione disillusioned herself after Prefect rounds and slipped into the Slytherin common room. It wasn’t her first time there, and she had memorized the steps she’d need to take to get to his dorm. He was one of only four Slytherin boys their age who had returned for a final year, and so they were given more spacious quarters and larger beds.

She crept up the stairs, casting a cushioning charm on her feet so as not to wake the Slytherin prefects who had surely just returned back from rounds. A silent alohamora gained her access to the room, and she pushed the door open slowly, listening for the sounds of four different snores. Once she had confirmed they were all asleep, she slipped in and headed to his bed. Peeling back the curtains, she climbed carefully onto the foot of the bed, and then cast silencing charms as well as sticking charms to keep the curtains from moving.

He had fallen asleep on his back, which was great luck for her. She conjured ropes and then cast another charm to have them magically bind him to the bed by both wrists and both ankles. He didn’t stir until the last knot was secure, and she grinned in triumph.

“Granger! What the fuck?!”

“Shhh, husband. You don’t want to wake the other boys, do you?” she said in a sweet simper.

“This is not funny, you fucking bitch. Release me at once.”

“Release me at once,” she mocked. “Really Malfoy, what century are you from?” As she said this she crawled on top of him and placed a hand on his cock. She felt immediate confirmation of his arousal, as usual. He could talk a good game, and he could protest, but the truth was that he fucking loved it when she pulled these stunts.

He groaned as she grasped him greedily and then pulled out her wand and vanished his pants.

“Fuck you,” was all he managed to say.

Even though it was dark and he could hardly see her, she grinned. “In due course, darling.” She emphasized the last word, now very aware that they were going to need to get used to these terms of endearment while together in public.

Without further conversation, she bent down and wrapped her wet lips around his cock. She teased him at the head at first and tasted the first drop of pre-cum, letting out a moan of approval. She had never enjoyed the taste of a man before, but she enjoyed him. It was simply a fact that she could not quite reconcile, and so did not think too hard on. Pun intended.

After getting that first taste and feeling him squirm with impatience, she found that she couldn’t wait much longer and shoved him deep down into the back of her throat. She had already performed the charm to turn off her gag reflex while on her way there, fully intent on what she was going to do.

He writhed around, pulling on his binds. She knew he wanted to grab her hair and control her movements. If she was honest, she loved it when he did that. Tonight, however, was a punishment, and that had to include some discipline on her part. They just happened to enjoy a lot of the same things, so taking something away from him meant that it was taken from her as well.

Her tongue pressed along his shaft as she took him deeply in and out. Then she remembered the entire point of this endeavor, and she scraped her teeth along his length as she went.

She would have silenced him from the beginning, which had been a favorite of hers, but she wanted to hear his reactions this time. After a few passes with light pressure, she pressed down a bit harder. He shuddered immediately, but she could not tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or both. She added her bottom teeth on the next pass and felt him thrash beneath her. She moaned with the pleasure of knowing how uncomfortable she was making him, while at the same time knowing that he was absolutely enjoying her game.

He always did.

They both loved being in control as well as being controlled. It was an odd combination, most people tended to gravitate to one or the other, but both Hermione and Draco took pleasure in either.

Not wishing to actually injure him, she eased up a bit on the teeth and felt the muscles in his thighs lose their tension. She removed him from the back of her throat and began licking him like an ice cream, trailing her tongue lower and lower and licking his balls. He cried out, as he always did, and she went lower, swirling her tongue in all the places a tongue did really belong but was surely welcome.

She moved back up and placed sloppy kisses all over his shaft before sliding him back into her mouth and shoving him as deep as he could go. She was incredibly wet now, which she discovered as she slid her own hand between her hot wet folds. Her desire to mount him again was strong, but she’d wait for now. She wanted him to come in her throat. Had been thinking about it ever since they’d parted ways earlier. After that, he could get it up again so she could have a final ride before heading back to her dorm.

She took him much faster now, imagining that his hand was on the back of her head and forcing her down. She took care to continue the pressure from her teeth, knowing that if she did hurt him at all, she could always heal him before the next round. He hadn’t stopped thrashing in protest, but he was giving her many more moans of approval. Her memory of his hand guiding her head was so strong that she rather though he must be having a similar if not greater experience of this with her in charge. She remembered how he would sometimes hold her down as he bucked his hips up into her, and so she made a very distinct move to bring her lips down to the base of his cock and stop moving.

He took her cue immediately and began fucking her mouth with what little mobility he had. She had been teasing her own clit gently all this time, but pressed harder now that she could put more focus on herself. Merlin, but this was incredibly arousing. She let him drive into her mouth, pressing most of her body weight down onto him via her lips, as she stroked and rubbed her clit, grinding into her own hand. Finally, without warming, she felt the hot stream of his seed hit the back of her throat. Thank the sex charm Gods, she did not gag for a moment, but willingly accepted it into her throat like a desert walker desperate for water.

The sensation of the hot liquid spewing into her sent her over the edge. She came hard on her own hand right along with him. Her orgasm was so strong that her ears began ringing. She thought she could hear him murmuring something, but really wasn’t sure. She also didn’t care.

Wiping her hand on the bedding, she braced herself with both hands and pulled him slowly out of her mouth, again taking care to graze her teeth along his shaft. He shuddered violently at the movement and after a few swallows to rid her mouth of his seed, she giggled.

“Serves you right, Malfoy. Next time just listen to me.”

He was panting rather heavily in the aftermath of his orgasm, but she was able to make out, “healing charm… please.”

Oh dear, he never said please. She reached quickly for her wand and aimed it at his still slightly erect manhood, casting the necessary charm. He let out a satisfied moan.

She may have healed him, but she wouldn’t apologize. It was still, after all, a punishment.

Likewise, he did not say thank you. They rarely exchanged a pleasantry in any of their interactions, it just was not their style.

She bent down and began to kiss and lick his cock once more.

“I’m fine,” he said with disdain. She looked up at him with a smirk. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she knew that he could see her face clearly by the green lake light that bounced off the ceiling over his four poster.

“I’m not concerned with your comfort, just that I get one last ride before going off to bed,” she said, and bent down again to continue her efforts to get him fully hard again.

“You know all you have to do is say that thing you always refuse to say. Could save you a lot of time.”

She looked up at him, exasperated. This was his constant refrain, though he was usually not bound when he said it. Finding that she was more amenable to it given his current state, she crawled up and kissed his chest, then his collarbone, neck, jaw, and the bit his earlobe. Bringing her lips to the perfect position, she whispered, “fuck me like one of your pureblood whores, please Malfoy.”

That seemed to do the trick, as she felt his cock twitch against her stomach instantly.

“Told you,” he said in a pompous manner. Merlin, how he could manage to speak so clearly when so aroused, she’d never know. She was certainly ready herself. In fact, she hoped for at least two more orgasms before she left his bed. Straddling him, she lowered herself onto his cock for the second time that day, and relished the sensation of having full control to fuck him as hard, soft, fast, or slow as she desired.  
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The next morning found them both sleeping in their own beds, and going about their days without much thought of where the other was or what they were doing.

Their days were always like this. While the pair had found a mutual satisfaction in the act of fucking one another, when it came to feelings, neither was willing to let their guard down enough to care.

It was kind of funny, really. If one of them would simply show a weakness first, the other would actually be supportive of it… but they would never know that. Because they were assholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read on to discover how this ridiculous arrangement came to be...


	2. Come in Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The titles says it all

Assholes? Arseholes? Who even knew?

The narrator was American and didn’t have a Brit-picker to consult with.

But let’s get back to our favorite… jerks.

***Many Months Earlier***

The school year had begun in a fairly bland manner. Hermione had settled into her Head Girl duties, as well as her familiar propensity to basically live in the library.

Ho hum. Hum drum. Typical.

Everyone seemed to be operating under the same conspiracy of normalcy. It was as if a psychopathic noseless tyrant hadn’t recently wiped out a third of their population. Hermione didn’t mind, though. She herself was obviously quite careworn and therefore content to play make believe with the rest. Harry and Ron had thrown themselves into Auror work, and she had thrown herself into schoolwork.

Harry coped with feelings by saving people.  
Ron coped with feelings by glomming on to Harry’s need to save people.  
Hermione coped with feelings by running to her books.

Only… she would normally be researching something to do with whoever needed saving by Harry.

The absence of her other two limbs left her feeling particularly… pointless. As a person. Like… what was even the point of her now?

Thinking it would be best to give herself something other than schoolwork and Head duties to occupy her mind, she’d resurrected S.P.E.W. (That's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, for any of you weirdos who haven't read Goblet of Fire - Hermione is basically a SJW for house elves). Many more in the school were now willing to buy a badge and support her cause.

The benefit of being a celebrity was that it didn’t matter what sort of asinine bullshit you were fighting for; your true fans would always go along. So much so that you could be completely delusional, misinformed, and generally ridiculous, and no one would ever call you on it.

And so… no one did! It was blissful oblivion for Hermione Granger.

Sort of.

Hermione still needed capital to get her movement fully off the ground, and seven sickles per member for dues was not going to cut it. No, she needed real money.

That was where Draco Malfoy came in.

She’d been concocting ways to begin some sort of acquaintance with him. She had learned long ago that the best ways to manipulate boys were fear and sex.

She’d used the latter very sparingly, relying instead on her brilliant mind and spell-casting ability in order to assert dominance. Generally, she’d been terrible at the latter. Coquettish coaxing was not her forte, and were she to ever offer up her body as an act of logical exchange for some favor, most boys would find that just as intimidating as her magical threats.

Except, perhaps, for Draco Malfoy.

This was where sex and logic had collided in a beautiful improvised interpretive dance.

Draco Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts. Merlin knew why! To say that the other students gave him a wide berth was the understatement of 1998. She’d noticed that he hadn’t seemed bothered by it. If anything, it’d seemed to suit him well.

She found herself jealous, as she was regularly assaulted by cameras and requests for autographs in the halls and at meal times, not to mention the fan mail. Oh, the bloody fan mail!

She was finding a cynical shift in her personality simply due to the amount of bullshit she had to endure on a daily basis as a “war heroine” – before you knew it, there would be dolls of her promoting things like “WITCH POWER!”

No, seriously, they’d be front of display soon at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes: Hogsmeade.

Yep, she was famous and it was unbearable.

Malfoy had had no such experience. So, apart from the fact the he seemed to enjoy the solitude that his reputation garnered him, she had to imagine that he was… lonely wasn’t the right word. Starved for companionship? Yes, that was more like it.

After all, he was a warm blooded (debatable) eighteen-year-old who had had the majority of his early teen years usurped by the aforementioned psycho-snake, and couldn’t have had much time for sexual exploits.

i.e. that boy HAD to be horny.

It was just logic. Hermione’s specialty.

The prospect of a Malfoy funding her house elf cause was as far-fetched as breaking into Gringotts and escaping on a dragon, so she liked her odds.

Determined to achieve her ends some way, somehow, Hermione set about enacting her plan.

This would require a fair bit of foundation-laying, and she herself was starved for a task to help shove away the latent grief from her buffet of trauma over the last few years, so she wanted to move quickly.

Harry had gifted her the Marauder’s Map for her return to the school, so finding out where Malfoy typically hung about was no issue. The bigger one would be getting him to even speak to her. If she was honest, she had no idea where he stood in regards to her. They had never been friends (obviously) and yet he hadn’t given her, Harry, and Ron up when he could have at Malfoy Manor. It had probably been for some selfish fucking reason, but still.

He’d also hung about in The Great Hall after the battle rather than immediately retreating.

Somehow, she’d had a sense that he desired acceptance. Reformation, even. She would play that card if need be. First, she’d go with the direct indecent proposal.

One evening in late September, she had solo-rounds, as her co-Head was in the hospital wing for a Quidditch accident. She opened the map and located Malfoy where he’d usually lurked, likely disillusioned, near Snape’s old office. Slughorn hadn’t taken it over and it’d remained a sort of shrine to the unlikely hero. Hermione had only briefly wondered why Malfoy chose this spot to linger, but did not give it much more thought.

Casting her own disillusionment charm and silencing her heeled boots, she made her way down.

A surprisingly sad scene met her eyes; Draco Malfoy was sitting on the stone floor, head hung between his legs, elbows on knees, holding a flask.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d been drinking away his sorrows.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d had sorrows.

Furthermore, she was not interested in hearing his sorrows, and was sure he wouldn’t share them with her if she was.

Looking down at him, and with another small shock, she registered the fact that he was not, in fact, disillusioned. Bold move.

Bold… or stupid. Maybe he enjoyed the idea of being caught? Or the risk?

Well, no point in trying to figure the bastard out, really. She was done with hypotheticals and ready to see what would happen if she just gave this a shot.

Standing directly before him, she removed her charms.

“Don’t scream. I come in peace,” she said as she quickly cast and then removed a silencing charm on him. It had done the trick. Whatever yell he had let out at her appearance had been successfully muted.

“What the fuck, Granger?” he yelled, getting to his feet with surprising grace.

“Keep your voice down or I’ll do it again for you,” she hissed.

His anger filled the air like a balmy late summer day’s humidity. “Like hell you-”

But he wasn’t going to be finishing any sentences at that volume on this night.

Even if he’d notice her hand movements, he couldn’t have prevented her wordless, wandless magic. Instantly, his voice was again muted and he was pinned against the stone wall. Calmly, she strode towards him and removed the flask from his pinned hand. His lips moved, but she was blissfully oblivious to the aspersions he’d surely cast her way. Looking him dead in the eyes, she took a sip from the flask.

Firewhisky. It had recently become a favorite of hers and she savored the burn.

It was some good shit. Rich little fuck.

“This is amazing,” she said, staring at the small silver container that was surely a Malfoy heirloom. Then she looked back up with him, a serene smile on her face.

“I didn’t come here to duel, Malfoy. Will you please promise to keep your voice down so I can release these undignified spells?”

She took his sneer as an answer and released the spells as she turned away from him, taking another casual sip.

“How dare you put your filthy mouth on my flask,” he growled.

She spun around and advanced on him again.

“Where should I put it instead?” she growled back, her eyes boring into his.

He was fucking hot. She had always known it, had always suppressed the awareness, and was not trying to push it away anymore. That was part of why this all made logical sense to her, a latent attraction on her part would be excellent fuel to get past the fact that she found the idea of seducing him generally appalling even if only on principal.

Physically, she had no qualms. She’d been particularly… starved for companionship herself.

Blood purity bullshit aside, she’d always had an inkling that he’d had a thing for her as well. What better way to test a theory about having the key to tame a dragon than to walk right into said dragon’s lair and demand obedience.

“Where should I put it instead?” – her words rang in the stone corridor.

He blinked, but made no reply. They stood there in silence, glaring at one another.

She bit her lower lip very subtly and felt a thrill shoot through her as his eyes darted down to observe the movement.

Victory. She could almost hear her own voice whispering it all around the corridor.

“What are you playing at, Granger?” His voice was low, quiet with danger and promise. She shuddered.

“Nothing yet,” she said.

His brow furrowed for a moment. They were still standing so close; she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Fine, warm blooded after all.

She chanced her own glance down at his lips and then back up to his storm cloud eyes.

“Why did you come down here?”

The fact that he was confused and asking questions rather than merely walking away made her feel… powerful. It was something she hadn’t felt in quite a while. She found that it acted like a balm to her boredom, as well as a delightful distraction from her worldly woes.

But she should calm down with the alliteration. Too much of a good thing and all that.

“Why did you come down here?” – she let his question hang in the air for a while before answering.

“Why do you suppose?”

At this, he let out a low laugh. “As if anyone could figure out how your mind works, Granger. First they’d have to battle through that bushy nest on your head to even access it.”

“You love it,” she said with narrowed eyes and a lilt of her chin.

“What?”

“Malfoy, this is boys 101. You tease because you want what you can’t have.”

He scoffed as loudly as one could scoff.

“As if I would ever reduce myself to wanting a mud-”

“Shhh… you don’t want to use that word just now,” she said, stopping him with a finger over his lips. He froze. “Best save it for the times when you really want to shock me. Don’t let it lose its efficacy.”

He seemed completely thrown by this, she could see it in his eyes. She removed her finger, and for the briefest moment, his face betrayed a sense of disappointment.

“Now,” she continued in a business-like manner, even though she was still so close to him they were almost pressed together. “I have a proposition for you, so listen closely because the offer will expire in a fortnight.”

A small grimace crossed his face, but she took his silence as acquiescence and kept going.

“We’re both virtually alone here this year. Hardly any of our year have returned, and the ones who have don’t understand what either of us has been through. No one does really.”

Her voice trailed off and she waited a beat while they both processed what she had just spoken. It was true. There was an incredibly odd sort of camaraderie available between them, given their proximity to the end of Voldemort, even if they had fought on opposite sides.

“I don’t want to make new friends. I certainly am not interested in a boyfriend. Everyone that speaks to me now… I can’t trust that they care about anything but being closer to a war heroine.”

She rolled her eyes on that last bit and heard him stifle a chuckle.

“Get to the point, Granger.”

“I think we should fuck.”

If there was something he was expecting her to say, that clearly wasn’t it.

“You honestly believe that I would lower myself to-”

“I do,” she said, closing the space between them by stepping in and pressing her hips against him. He did not even hint at removing himself and she smiled inwardly, even though she’d known since his lip-glance that she’d had him.

Then she let her eyes rove all around his face, her breath ghosting over his lips. He was incredibly controlled, and yet she could sense the subtlest quiver in his body as she moved. Restraint.

She brought her lips to his ear and said, “just think about it, Malfoy.” Then, he inhaled sharply as she let her lips take his earlobe, her tongue giving it a gentle caress. When she pulled away, she was gratified to see that he had his eyes closed. Taking the opportunity, she re-cast her charms and silently disappeared into the night.

“Granger?” was the last thing she heard before she was out of earshot.

Phase one of fundraising efforts: COMPLETE.

 

oOoOoOo

 

Draco Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table the next morning in the middle of an existential life crisis. Of course, it was also entirely possible that he was overdramatizing the situation in the extreme.

It wasn’t like the mudblood had been admitting anything other than physical feelings, and he certainly had had his fair share of nasty fantasies involving the stupid bint. They were merely sexual fantasies. It was all about power and dominance. Nothing more.

That was what he’d told himself, anyway. Feel free to think you know better, alright?

The life crisis was really a symptom of some other sensations and yearnings he’d noticed during and after their interaction the evening prior. Something around his own public vindication that might become possible due to an alliance with the golden bitch herself.

Let’s face it, though, he was not self-aware enough to recognize those feelings.

What he could feel, however, were his new and confusing lustful feelings for her.

He had to admit it, it had been fucking hot.

The way she’d bitten her lip.

The way she’d let her breath ghost over his lips. She’d smelled of spearmint.

That... ear... thing. He’d been completely undone by the witch in a matter of moments and he was, frankly, impressed.

It had been her confidence. Where had it come from?

He felt a moment of pride, thinking that the years of bullying had actually caused a positive change in the girl. Caused her to rise to the occasion and take back her power.

It was pretty fucking pretentious for him to even attempt to lay claim to credit for her personal transformation, but he was a pretentious little shit, so that’s just what he did.

He had a fortnight to decide, but didn’t need it.

The chance to fuck Hermione Granger with no strings attached was far too great to pass up.

“Existential crisis over,” he thought to himself.  
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.  
Later that day, he enacted his own plan. Disillusioning himself and silencing his shoes as he assumed she had done the night prior, he followed her on her rounds. Why was she alone? Weren’t they meant to do this in pairs? It was how it had been in his time as Prefect. McGonnagal, of course, had not been about to offer him such a post… post-war. Times had changed.

When Granger reached the end of her rounds (which were decidedly uneventful) she retired back to her quarters. He followed closely behind her after she’d opened the door and was grateful that she’d stood briefly in the doorway removing her shoes before closing it behind her. Forgetting he had a silencing charm on, he stealthily followed her into her bedroom. He had to stifle a gasp as she began undressing immediately, tossing her robes over her desk chair and beginning to unbutton her blouse. He licked his lips as he watched her. Once her shirt was off, she began to work the buttons of her school skirt and he moved in, undoing his charms as he went.

He cast the same series of spells on her, even though it didn’t matter if she screamed. He intended to make her scream that night.

She spun around and her arms were pinned to the wall as unknown words tumbled from her muted mouth. Flashing his signature smirk, he sauntered over to her, a gleam in his eye that hadn’t been there for years.

“Don’t worry, Granger. I come in peace.”

He watched her for a moment as she registered her own words on his lips and observed adorable freckles on her nose as she sneered at him.

That was a pretty good sneer, actually. He was impressed.

“You can actually scream all you want; in fact, I imagine I’ll be encouraging it.”

Her mouth stilled and her expression calmed. He released the spells and she rubbed her wrists as if she’d been in shackles. She did not scream… yet. She went for a low, angry rasp instead.

“How dare you follow me into my private quarters, you pretentious little-” He put a finger over her mouth and was surprised when she actually stopped speaking. A moment of triumph.

The look she gave him, though, took his breath away. It was one of lustful astonishment, filled with an innocence he was not prepared for in that moment.

Finding that he wasn’t up for re-enacting their entire “thing” from the night before, he instead shifted his hand to brush his thumb across her lip. She took in a breath and closed her eyes, and he ran his fingers along her jaw, finally entangling them into her mess of curls.

Abruptly, he tugged her forward by the hair, his lips millimeters from hers.

“You were right about the hair thing,” he murmured. “It’s a fucking mess and I love it.”

Then, finally, their lips met. They both let out something between a moan and a whimper at the contact. It was hard to say if one was more emphatic than the other, they both seemed to want and need this in equal measure, and their tongues swirled around one another amidst lip nipping and lapping licks. Tasting. Discovering. Exploring one another.

It was like she was Christmas morning and he had so many presents to unwrap.

Speaking of which, he realized that his presents were mostly unwrapped before him. So intent had he been on her lips and hair, he’d quite forgotten that the witch was almost naked. Apparently, she hadn’t, because in that moment, she was fixedly divesting him of his own clothing.

Suddenly she stopped and pushed him back. He growled at the loss of contact.

“Wait, we haven’t set any ground rules.”

“Is that really necessary?” he whined, leaning in to kiss her neck. She whimpered at his touch and grasped his shoulders. He brought both hands up to grasp her lace-covered tits and rubbed his thumbs over her pert nipples.

“Malfoy,” she moaned, and he felt his cock twitch.

“Yes, Granger? Please keep telling me about these rules,” he said, moving down to shove her bra out of the way and taking one of her perky tits into his mouth. She let out a squeal this time. He wondered how long it had been for her. Feeling it would be best to capitalize on her overwhelmed state, he ran a hand down to her knickers and rubbed his fingers slowly, starting at her clit and moving lower, then back up. He could feel her slick wetness under the lace, but did not move the material aside yet. It was obvious, however, that she’d be soaked through pretty soon and it almost wouldn’t matter.

He moved up to her ear and repeated the motion she’d done to him the night before with her tongue, then said, “For example, shall we make a rule about how many times I make you come before we fuck? I’m thinking two should be the baseline.”

With that, he dropped down to lave at her clit over her knickers and she let out the most glorious noise of desperation and relief.

It wasn’t a selfless thing; it was a pride thing. He was not about to allow Hermione Granger the ability to say he wasn’t able to satisfy her. Not that they were going to be a public couple, of course, it was just the principle of the thing. He would bring her with his mouth, then his cock, then he would see about his own release.

Her legs were trembling uncontrollably as he raced his tongue over her clit. When he finally pushed the material aside, he heard her utter a small yet impassioned, “No,” and he looked up in time to see her making an odd movement with her hand like she had the night before. He had suspected wandless magic, but hadn’t been sure whether he’d just missed the wand in her other hand.

He was now pinned against the wall and very sure: this was perhaps the scariest witch he’d ever met.

“I want to suck you off first,” she said, removing his pants and smiling as his fully erect cock sprang free. Then she leaned her head to the side and held her hand over her throat.

“Opstruo libera” she said. It was a spell he’d never heard before.

“On second thoughts, ground rules sound like an excellent idea. For example: no pinning me to the fucking wall and sucking me off against my will.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t seem to care a minute ago. Too late now.”

With that, she took him fully into her mouth. Draco knew that he was larger than average. The few experiences he’d had with this usually resulted in complaints from the witches on their knees. This witch, however, was not complaining.

Whatever that spell had been seemed to be intended to aid her in this particular task. He couldn’t think about it any further, however… well, because he couldn’t think at all. She had him deep into her throat, and since his wrists and ankles were pinned, he had limited mobility.

Oh fuck, he wanted so badly to grab her hair and have some semblance of control over her movements. As it was, he would likely explode down her throat any second. Her full and perfect lips were wrapped around him, and she was pushing him deep into the back of her throat with every thrust.

This was supposed to be his time to control and please her. If they did indeed continue, he knew there would always be this quest for control on both sides.

“Granger,” he moaned, and she began to move faster. He was already getting close when he heard a wet sound and looked down to see that she’d been vigorously rubbing her own clit. Just as he glanced down, she moved her knickers and shoved two fingers in. That sent him over the edge and he came hard right down her throat. She tensed, poised to receive. He could hear and feel her working to swallow every drop of him as he pulsed and convulsed, his cock throbbing in her throat. Her moan of pleasure was enough to make him fall over had he not been stuck there, and he realized that she had come along with him.

His back pushed firmly into the wall as his sticking charms released; he could hardly stand. When he glanced down, the most breath taking sight stood, er, kneeled before him.

Hermione Granger, on her knees, wiping his come off her lips and licking it off her fingers.

With a jolt, he remembered where those fingers had just been and his cock came back to life for a moment with a twitch. Her eyes widened at the movement.

“Already coming back for more, are we?”

He shook his head. “Not me. You.”

In the low, gravelly voice that seemed to do her in, he said, “Bed. Now.”

She said nothing but began sauntering over to the bed.

“And no more spells tonight. Or ever. Truce?” he said.

With a coy smirk she said, “Oh no, there is no way I will be agreeing to that.”

“Why not?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Because… the only way that this will work is if I regularly make you feel like a bit of an idiot. You like a challenge, so I won’t be withdrawing mine.”

Then she splayed herself out on the bed, and just when Draco was about to argue, she shoved a hand down her lacy knickers and began rubbing her clit, bringing up her other hand to mercilessly pinch a nipple.

“Mmmmm…. Mmmmmm…. Malfoy-”

He was on top of her, roughly shoving her further up the bed and burying his face once again between her tanned, perfect thighs. Since when did Granger have curves?

He wasted no time and shoved his tongue into her slit, tasting her with veneration. Any complaints he’d had in the past about this particular activity faded away, he was a new man. As he worked her clit and inserted a few fingers he found himself saying, “tell me what you like, Granger.”

“Mmmmm,” was her response, hips bucking her pussy into his lips.

“Talk to me,” he said, not knowing quite why. It was instinctual. Something in him said she would enjoy it more if she had some say in what he was doing.

“Mmm… kiss it… kiss my cunt.”

Draco obeyed, placing light kisses all over her clit and surrounding skin.

“With tongue,” she breathed, and he understood. Slowly, expertly, he began laving at her skin and ending it with a kiss each time, as if he were kissing her mouth. He moved all around, covering every bit of her that he could reach. As he methodically worked on giving her clit more and more of the attention, he sensed that she was being built up quite well. She was trembling under his touch.

“Draco please,” she moaned.

“Please what? I want to hear it.”

“Please make me come now.”

Continuing to place wet sloppy kissed all around her clit without touching it, he said, “How exactly would you like me to do that?”

She whimpered in protest but took a deep breath and said, “Add a third finger and put your tongue flat against my clit so I can fuck your face.”

If he was already hard, then he got immeasurably harder at hearing her words, her specificity. He made no reply other than to smirk and follow her instructions. Licking one of his fingers for extra ease, he then brought three to her opening and shoved in. It was a tight squeeze, and he could feel her walls clench around his fingers. He instantly could think of little else besides sliding his cock into her perfect pussy… but that would wait.

Obediently, he brought his tongue flat against her clit and applied pressure, encouraging her to move. Releasing a litany of small, tortured moans, she pumped her hips and pressed her clit into his tongue. She seemed ready to come undone any second, and her slow speed must be due to wanting to prolong the pleasure.

He moved his fingers in and out of her, and curled them up to search for her spot. Pressing back and stroking the same spot over and over, he noticed her shudder rhythmically with his movements, and suddenly her hips were moving faster. With rising fury, she fucked his face and he stroked her inside walls firmly, feeling her throb and begin to fall apart.

 

She screamed. It was so loud. He would never forget the exact sound she made.

She convulsed violently under his tongue and touch.

“I’m- I’m coming… Malfoy… I’m coming.”

He continued doing what he was doing until she clearly had had enough and couldn’t do with more contact. Even still, as he pulled away, he placed a light kiss just above her clit.

She laughed and grinned down at him.

The both panted as they looked at one another.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we have chemistry, don’t you, Malfoy?”

He scoffed. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Granger. I don’t do relationships. You fuck me or you fuck off.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t implying romantic chemistry, you arrogant fuck!”

“Granger, like I said, fuck me or fuck off. If you want to get fucked, then turn over so I don’t have to look at your face.”

With a huff, she actually turned right over and put her ass in the air for him to ravish.

He cast a lubrication charm, just in case, and slid into her slick warmth.

Merlin, she was so perfectly tight. He seemed to fit inside her like they were custom made for this. He filled her completely, and once she’d gotten used to his size, began pounding into her as hard as he could.

Unbeknownst to him, Hermione hid a mischievous smirk below the mane of hair that was obscuring her sweaty, satisfied face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me. Tell me what you like.


	3. Ulterior Motive Mania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes an accusation. Hermione gets even. They both think they have the upper hand, and frankly, it's adorable.

Hermione walked the halls of the castle with an extra pep in her step the following morning, and not just because she’d had four rather fantastic orgasms the night before.

She had him. That was that. While she hadn’t figured out the particulars of her entire plan just yet, phase one had gone exceptionally well, even coming to a close thirteen days earlier than planned. She had let him feel enough of a sense of control without losing that dominant demeanor that he seemed so turned on by.

It was expertly done on her part.

She imagined the panel of Tri-wizard judges casting golden number tens in the air after witnessing her performance, and beamed as though she’d just retrieved a golden egg from a dragon.

No golden eggs just yet, but the dragon was under her spell.

They had fucked well into the night, and she’d made it a point to kick him out when they were through. Even though she didn’t think she had anything to worry about in terms of their intimacy going too far, she did not want to leave room for any chance of becoming attached. She knew all too well how her mind could invent little false realities and then live into them, and she refused to get caught up in such nonsense when there were house elves to liberate.

_Eyes on the prize, Hermione._

She entered the great hall and strode over to the Gryffindor table. A few first years gave her a round of applause as she went by, and she responded with a tight-lipped smile.

It was already grating on her and the year had only just begun.

She sat with a few fifth years who were doing homework at the table. Her own days of worrying about OWLs seemed so far away. A flood of resentment coursed through her at the thought of her fellow war-hero friends who had all decided to forego year eight and simply enter the working wizarding world.  
It was fine. They’d left her, but it was fine.

She stabbed her eggs with a bit too much gusto when a drawling voice spoke from behind her.

“Why so tense, Granger?”

If she’d been tense before, it was nothing compared to what she became in that moment. She kicked herself inwardly for not setting the ground rules like she had planned.

Planned Ground Rule #1: No public contact

Well, that was shot to shit already.

She spun around with rage in her eyes, aware that many faces were turned their way, raptly watching their interaction.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

He looked puzzled for a moment, but then glanced around at the curious faces and caught on. Thank Gods.

“I need to speak with you,” he said in a low voice.

_For Merlin’s sake! What the bloody hell could this be about? What was so urgent that he had to approach her in the most public of places?!_

Through gritted teeth she retorted, “do you expect me to rise from my seat mid-breakfast and follow you out of the hall?”

With raised eyebrows and voice, he said, “Wow, Granger. It can’t be that time of the month, can it? I think I would have noti-”

She stood abruptly as a way of cutting off his sentence and said, “Move.”

At first she walked behind him as they exited, but she didn’t like the way that looked. As if she were subservient. Instead, she overtook him so that he had to follow her out of the hall. Copious whispers and mutterings followed them as they went.

They stopped at the first empty classroom and went inside, sealing the door with the appropriate charms.

He rounded on her. “Contraception.”

“What?”

“Did you use the contraception charm?”

She scoffed loudly. “Of course I did. You think I would want your slimy spawn taking up residence in my womb?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Well yes, in fact, that’s exactly what I’ve begun to think. Glad you’ve caught on so fast.”

Her mind reeled. It took her a few moments to work out what he was saying, and when she finally did, she plastered an appropriately affronted look on her face as she looked back at him.

“You thought my secret aim in all of this was to become pregnant with your child? You have got to be kidding me.”

He shrugged. “It would make sense. You’re alone, and from what I hear practically an orphan. Friends have all abandoned you here. That Order of Merlin money isn’t going to last a lifetime. Why not secure a ticket for a free ride?”

It was the scoff to end all scoffs, and Hermione let it rip!

“So this is your opinion of me?! Thank you for explaining so fully, Malfoy.”

“Do you deny it then?”

“Of course I bloody well deny it, you incomparable arse! In what universe would I ever want to be connected with you in such a way? As if I would want my child to have a death eater for a father!”

At this, he stilled. His face became a stone bust.

“Take that back, Granger.”

He was so still! The mouth of a ventriloquist! No matter, she wouldn’t be intimidated.

“Why should I? It’s the truth,” she parried.

“Take it back now,” he said, advancing on her menacingly.

She stood her ground. They were nose to nose.

“No,” she said, wrapping as much defiance into one syllable as was humanly possible.

They stood there seething at each other for what felt like five minutes, which was actually an incredibly long time to stare another person in the face.

“Take. It. Back,” he said.

“Make me,” she retorted, baring her teeth at him.

His gaze dropped to her mouth as she did so, and suddenly, so very suddenly… the air between them shifted. From teeming hatred… to unquenchable lust.

He captured her mouth in a kiss and wrapped his arms around her neck. It was suffocating. Vying for the upper hand instinctively, she shoved his arms away down and pinned them down to his waist. He struggled to break free, but she had been lifting quite regularly, and could actually overpower him. This he did not like one bit, and he cast a wandless stinging jinx on her wrists to get her to let go. She let go, but withheld her squeal of pain. Doing so took great effort, but it was well worth the satisfaction of him not knowing he’d hurt her.

All the while, they were making out furiously, allowing each other’s tongues to lave generously over lips, teeth, cheeks, jawlines, whatever was within reach.

Without warning, his fingers were inside her.

_Bloody hell, how had he accomplished such a feat?_

She hardly knew, but she hardly cared either, for he was curving his piano fingers at a dizzying angle, and she was already seconds from coming undone.

She could not ever remember being brought this quickly, not even by her own hand.

Refusing to allow him the level of smug satisfaction that would surely follow her climax, should she allow it to occur, she painstakingly shoved his hand away and grasped his hard cock in the same movement.

The speed with which she then undid his trousers was legendary, and she was gratified to feel him slump forward onto her for support, as her caresses and pulls immediately had the same effect on him that his fingers had had on her. She made to kneel in front of him and turn things up a notch, but…

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, grasping her upper arms, and pulling her up from the floor. “I’m putting you on a diet. No more cock lollies for you for a month.”

She whimpered and stomped her foot. “Why not?!” she cried, as she gaped at him like a punished child.

“Because,” he said, and the tone of his voice paired with the sudden severe look in her eye sent a chill through her. For a moment, she felt a tingle of real fear course through her body as he stared down at her, stepping forward and pinning her against the wall.

“If I am going to have my cock shoved down your throat, I am going to do so on my own terms.”

Unable to suppress it, a wry smile appeared on her face and she quirked a non-aristocratic eyebrow at him.

“You hate being out of control so much that you’d rather forego having your prick sucked than allow a few moments of weakness-”

“I will allow zero moments of weakness, that’s right. I still haven’t figured out what this is all about for you, Granger, but mark my words. I will do so. Until then, I will enjoy fucking you senseless on _my_ terms.”

_His terms, indeed. As if._

Hermione knew that there was no way he would discover her motives. At least, not until she revealed them herself. By that time, if she was lucky, he would have formed some semblance of an emotional attachment to her, and she could have the double whammy of getting her money and humiliating the cocky prat at the same time.

Heh… cocky.

“Very well, Malfoy. You’re just lucky I enjoy being dominated almost as much as the reverse.”

He released his famous scoff. “I don’t trifle with luck, I make my own. Now bend over. I owe you punishment for your filthy mouth.”

Violently grabbing at her hips, he spun her around and bent her over the nearest desk.

Classroom eleven had never seen a show such as the one that followed.

With a quick shift of her knickers, he had plunged inside of her. It stung a bit, given that they’d fucked well into the previous night and Hermione had forgotten to cast the necessary healing charms.

Merlin, he still felt so good. It truly was lucky for her, she thought, that Malfoy happened to be incredible in bed… or, er… on desk… because it meant that for all the time she would have had to endure allowing him to fuck her to reach her monetary goal, she could actually enjoy herself.

There was, of course, the added bonus of being able to fuck _with_ him in the process as well…

She put on a bit of an extra show, though it wasn’t difficult to fake. He stretched her out in all the right ways, and his hands were surprisingly soft as he grasped her waist and his fingers rubbed at the skin where the top of her skirt and bottom of her shirt met. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in much foreplay. The small amount of skin to skin contact set her on fire, and she craved more of his touch. Deftly, she tore at her white button down and the satisfying clink of small plastic buttons on stone floor filled the room.

“Malfoy…” she gasped between heaving breaths. “Play… with… my… tits…”

He continued to thrust into her, and at first it seemed as though he would ignore her. Then, finally he responded, and it became apparent to her that he had been trying not to come.

“You don’t get to make the commands right now, Granger.”

Fine. He wanted to play that game? She could give as good as she got.

Reaching back slowly, she trailed her hand between her own legs, and before he’d ever realized what was happening, cupped his balls gingerly and began massaging them. She could feel his entire body tense, his breathing shallow.

“G- Granger-”

“Mmm, Malfoy,” she responded before he could command her to stop. “Fuck me harder, I deserve it.”

She had to stifle her grin when he next uttered, in a high-pitched squeal, “What?”

“I do, I do, I’m such a bad little muggle born. Slam your giant cock in me and make it hurt, please. Aaah!”

She could tell that he, all at once, both knew what she was doing and could not resist it. His struggle was delicious! His thrusts became hesitant and furious at the same time. She maintained her gentle grip on his sack and caressed him teasingly. Judging by his speed and intensity, he was getting close. His grip on her hips tightened and his breathing was coming out through gritted teeth.

“Mmmm… that’s so goooood… yes, Malfoy, please...”

“Yea you like that you little whore, don’t you?”

_Well, that was a bit much, wasn’t it?_

Then again, her aim was to get money. She shrugged inwardly and allowed him to go on unabated.

“I am, I am, I’m a dirty whore who loves being fucked, but only by you, Malfoy.”

She then had to suppress a laugh when her comment only fueled him further! She could feel the bruises forming on her hips already.

“That’s right, I fucking own you. You’ll take it whenever I want, because you- you are-”

But she didn’t get to hear what she was, because he was right on the edge of exploding into her.

Jackpot. Time to act.

“Yes, yes I will! Now put our baby inside me, Malfoy!”

“Aaack – what?!” he yelled, still furiously pumping into her.

“I didn’t cast a contraceptive, please fill me with a tiny Malfoy! Aaaah!”

Her timing could not have been more perfect. He had already begun spilling his seed by the time the words left her mouth, and he could not stop mid-flow. He bucked into her harshly, allowing the last few pumps of baby batter into her cunt before pulling out and shoving her roughly by the hips.

“You fucking psycho!” he yelled.

He received no response, however, because Hermione was hunched over the desk in laughter, her bare ass still in the air and her folds dripping with his release.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?!”

There were tears of mirth dripping down her cheeks as she managed to come to a standing position and turned around to face him.

Through her laughter she managed to say, “Did… did you really think I meant it?”

Fits of giggles. Fit and fits.

“What?” he said sharply, his teeth bared.

“Tah.. ta.. tiny Malfoy?”

With that she collapsed into a renewed bout of hysterics, which continued on even after she’d heard him fumble with his wand before unsealing the door and storming out.

She remained in there for a good five minutes, which was actually a long time to squat on the floor, panties dripping with pureblood seed, in an attack of feverish laughter.

 

oOoOoOo

 

Draco stamped out of the classroom and down the corridor, a murderous rage coursing through him. His desire to go back and cruciate the witch to within an inch of her life was so strong that he’d need to go and ward himself in is dorm. Perhaps for the next few days.

It simply would not do for him to legitimately attack her. His war crimes had technically been forgiven, but he would not put it past the Ministry to withdraw their allegiance should he harm the Golden Girl. Plus, the fact that he was not thrown in Azkaban did not mean he was respected and trusted by all. There were still many who would not even look at him, and he did not want to make that any worse.

How dare she make a fool of him in such a way? He was so beyond angry he could hardly form thoughts.

Making his way down to his dorm, he suddenly remembered what time it was. He needed to get to potions.

_Fuck._

Slughorn didn’t hold classes in the dungeons. He doubled back, passing his old potion’s classroom. Snape’s rooms were left as something like a monument to the man, and Draco felt a slight pain in his chest as he went by.

Never mind that. He’d deal with it later. Or never. Probably never.

He’d been attempting to go inside the office the night Hermione had found him in the hall and made her… proposition. He’d been distracted from the task since then, and wasn’t sure he’d be revisiting it.

Finally making his way up to the potions classroom, relief washed over him as he realized he was not late. That relief was quickly replaced by shaking anger as he realized that the only available seat was next to…

“Miss Granger, you will be paired with Mr. Malfoy! Just in time, Malfoy. Do have a seat and we will get started.”

Partner work. Of course.

He stomped over to the desk and threw his bag down between them, hitting her right leg in the process. She did not flinch, but continued looking straight ahead at the front of the class with a shite eating smirk on her face.

Salazar’s balls, he hated her. His desire to inflict extreme pain flared in him once more, and he took seat along with a steadying breath.

_Do. Not. Act._

Glancing over to his right, he realized that Theo and Blaise were seated together and were both smiling and waving at him serenely.

Fucking tossers. He sneered back with a small shake of his head, and then began to implement his occlumency practice. He needed to keep his cool.

“Now everyone, I know we have been speaking of theories and doing solitary brewing thus far, but the work is about to get very practical and exceedingly difficult. So! Shake hands with the person next to you, for they will be your partner for the year.”

No. He gaped over at her, seeing that she had covered her mouth in an effort not to let laughter escape.

“Glad you think this is funny, Granger. You won’t be laughing for long.”

It was an idle threat. He wouldn’t risk sabotaging her, as it would reflect on his own grade, but no harm in casting a bit of fear over the bitch.

It worked. She uncovered her mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she said quietly.

He made no reply but simply raised his eyebrows at her once and turned back to face slughorn.

Right, he wasn’t going to physically harm her. He needed to play her purely psychological game instead. Using the occlumency he had learned to wield so well in the war, he packed away his pesky feelings inside neat little mind boxes, along with his godfather grief, and focused on the task at hand.

“Today, we will be using dittany and silver to make the treatment for werewolf bites. We begin the year this way because I have it on good authority that this particular concoction will come up in your testing, so do take excellent notes and plan to practice this one multiple times throughout the year on your own time. It is likely that no one will get it quite right today!”

Hermione had sat up straight as a pin upon hearing this information.

He couldn’t fault her, really. He was just as keen to pass his exams with straight O’s. If he was honest, she was the best person in the class for him to be paired with. They were sure to be top of the class individually, but especially together.

No, he would not be interfering with her schooling this year. There were much better options if he wanted to inflict pain.

Perhaps instead of continuing to openly loathe her, he could feign indifference, and eventually… love.

He could make Hermione Granger fall in love with him, by making her think he was falling in love with her.

Confidence and excitement surged through him as the brilliance of this idea set in.

He relaxed into the assignment, working quietly in tandem with her. That stupid smile was still plastered across her face, and while he noticed a waning of his own anger due to his new plan, he was careful not to drop his coldness too quickly.

He was, after all, Draco Malfoy. In her eyes, nothing but a prideful prat who held grudges like hoarders held old copies of The Prophet. He wouldn’t disabuse her of that notion. Not exactly.

Or rather, not quickly.

He’d make it a slow, calculated burn.

And in the end, she would indeed burn for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I burn for your comments.


	4. Library Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sexy shenanigans go down in the Hogwarts library. Will Madame Pince join in, or...?
> 
> Let's find out!

The weeks went on and they fell into a sort of routine. It was all very clinical, for the most part. They’d meet up (usually in her quarters at night) they’d fuck, he would leave to sleep in his dorm, they’d go about their days.

Hermione had been surprised at first that Draco had let her little stunt go. He wasn’t being nice to her, exactly, but he seemed to have shoved his pride aside in favor of the fucking.

 _Typical Slytherin,_ she thought. The ends justified the means.

Day by day, Hermione was splitting her time other between her advanced schoolwork and the building of her SPEW empire. She’d already researched what would be required to turn it into a non-profit organization. Board members needed to be recruited.

Neville had agreed long ago to help in any way he could, so she didn’t even need to make the request. He could be her VP.

Beyond that, she thought she had an adequate roster of other friends she could strong arm into holding positions.

To her dismay, however, her first three owls (to Ron, Harry, and Ginny) had come back with answers in the negative. Ron and Harry both claiming to be too busy with auror work (lame) and Ginny with her quidditch team (blast that sport).

She sat in the library during a free period, composing letters to the b-squad: Dean, Seamus, and Luna, while putting off contacting older Order members for the time being. She wasn’t keen on having this be too high profile just yet. It was always dangerous to share a big goal with too many people, lest it be squashed out by naysayers before it could even begin.

As she bent over the second letter, a voice suddenly spoke directly into her left ear.

“Who’re you writing to, Granger?”

She nearly jumped out of her chair, and as her head snapped up, she came inches away from head-butting the pale prat.

Too bad.

Also, he smelled divine, which was annoying.

“Nose out, Malfoy. What are you doing here, anyway?” she said, glancing around to check whether anyone was watching them. She still wasn’t interested in their arrangement being public. Similar to the larger plan with SPEW, too many people knowing about a thing had a way of making it lose its spark.

Not that she had a spark with Malfoy, of course, it was… well they had admitted chemistry, of course, but that was just hormones.

“Oh,” he said, glancing around as well, “I’m sorry, I was not aware that you had claimed the library as private territory. Should I usher all these other sods out for you, your highness?”

“Not them,” she hissed, “just you.”

He feigned being hurt by her words, placing a hand over her heart and closing his eyes.

“You wound me. Truly. What I would not give for an ounce of your approval, Granger.”

She rolled her eyes so hard that you could practically hear it. Yep, she was becoming a master of the audible eye roll.

Hermione stood, but this did little to decrease the inequality of their positions. Malfoy still towered over her. It didn’t matter to her, though, she moved inches away from him and quietly said, “The only approval you’ll ever get from me will be because you provided me adequate opportunity to get off.”

He grimaced for a moment, but then shifted to a curious brow quirk.

“Adequate?”

She returned the brow quirk with a small nod and said, “Adequate.”

Glaring down at her, chest heaving, she saw his eyes darken before he said, “Runes stacks. Now.”

It took Hermione a moment to understand what he meant. The school had been unable to procure a Runes professor for the new school year, and so that section of the library was quite abandoned.

He had already moved halfway across the room by the time she managed to hiss, “Malfoy!”

He spun around effortlessly and said, “Now or our deal is off.”

Eyes widening, she was torn between wanting to end the public interaction as quickly as possible, and wanting to call his bluff by refusing. With very little time to consider her next move, she decided to cede to him for now, gathering her things quickly and following him, even though he’d already disappeared into the stacks.

The moment she stepped into the aisle where he was waiting, she’d been scooped into his arms, his lips crashing against hers with supreme determination. He placed her gingerly on the wide ledge of the stacks. Her back pressed against rune books unknown.

Well, she’d certainly fantasized many times about a scene like this. Although, none of her fantasies included anyone as reprehensible as the wizard currently ravishing her mouth and grasping at her wrists. It was odd, actually, he didn’t usually focus there. She wondered idly why he was doing so, but brushed it away as a wave of desire moved through her body as his hot tongue began laving at the spot behind her ear.

She let out an involuntary whimper and he pulled away abruptly, placing a finger over her mouth.

“I’m not going to silence you, Granger, but you’re going to silence yourself.”

She grimaced at him and reached for her own wand, but he grabbed her hand.

“Now now, I didn’t mean with magic. If my abilities are only adequate, you shouldn’t have a hard time making no noise at all.”

She drew in a sharp breath, staring him dead in the eyes. It was a challenge. The gauntlet had been thrown. Her head made a small nod. He gave a shite-eating-grin in reply, and returned to what he’d been doing to her neck.

Her mouth instinctively opened, but she clasped it shut. She could simply perform her own silencing charm wandlessly, but Hermione loved a challenge.

She wasn’t going to spoil her own fun. That would just be stupid.

As he moved his mouth down to her chest, she grasped his hair in what she hoped was a painful manner. Then again, for all she knew he liked pain. It was something they hadn’t yet explored in all their nights together.

Still, it always felt good to hurt him a little bit, so she pressed on. Thinking she might give his nether regions a similar treatment, she reached down, but he caught her hand again and looked into her eyes.

“No,” he whispered, “just you right now.”

Then his eyes lingered on hers a beat too long, and she felt a swoop in her stomach.

What the fuck was that?

But the question only hung in the air for a moment before he’d unbuttoned her shirt and had his tongue on her nipple. He laved over it with a gently yet greedily, and she felt herself dampen in her knickers. She loved it over her lace bra, and could feel her pulse speeding up as he continued to focus on that without moving the material out of the way. Then he moved to the other side and ran his thumb over the one he’d just abandoned. The start of a moan left her mouth, and she clasped a hand over it immediately.

“If we get caught, Granger, it’s on you,” he whispered. (You know what, let’s just assume everything they say here is in a whisper. Cool? Cool.)

She chided herself for being so careless and resolved not to let another sound slip. They were tucked away in a back corner and there had not been very many students around, but Madame Pince was omniscient as ever these days, and the thrilled it caused in her to have the threat of being caught was alarming. It only served to turn her on even more, and she cursed her stupid sex-brain for it, as all the credit for her innate fantasies would be attributed to his prowess.

Then again, she had to admit (to herself) that he was so much more than adequate.

Indeed, on the nights when he didn’t come around, she routinely touched herself thinking about previous encounters they’d had. Most notably their first kiss.

She just had a thing for first kisses. All the tension. The intrigue.

The way someone’s unique taste felt so foreign yet exciting.

How strange tongues felt. It was always like “really, this is what tongues feel like?” Sort of the same sensation as when you look at a word for too long and wonder if it’s even a word.

Abruptly, Malfoy pulled back and looked into her eyes again.

“You’re thinking too much.”

She looked back at him, affronted.

“Well then give me something to not think about,” she snapped.

Hands still on her lacy breasts, he leaned in, scanning her face. A small smile played at the corners of his lips.

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “Of doing this to you. Here.”

“You… you what?”

He nodded. “Oh yea. Little know it all book work Hermione Granger getting fucked up against her favorite texts. You’re the perfect fantasy, Hermione.”

She had no words. For once in her life, Hermione Granger was fucking speechless. Just when she thought she could not be more stunned…

“You’re my fantasy, Hermione.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.  
What was he even saying?  
And why was it making her cunt throb?

She let out a harsh breath as he dove between her legs. Now on his knees, his head having disappeared beneath her skirt, he began devouring her pussy and she had to reach back above her head and grip the dusty shelves to keep herself steady. It was taking everything in her not to cry out.

What he’d said, paired with what he’d begun doing to her… it was all just…

So far from adequate.

Alright, he’d basically won. She wouldn’t deny him the admission if and when he asked for it.

All thought left her mind after that when he shoved those long, smooth fingers inside of her and began searching for the perfect spot. Of course he found it quickly. It was as though he’d memorized her.

She was quickly building to climax as he licked and kissed her clit, just the way she liked it. He hadn’t even hiked up her skirt, and somehow the sight of his head lost beneath the material made it all the more arousing.

As her orgasm built, she could not help but let out a few high-pitched “ah’s.”

He doubled down when he heard the sounds, fucking her with his fingers and licking up all of her juices as he went.

“Did you hear that?”

A female voice had spoken from a nearby stack.

“I think it came from back here.”

A male voice responded.

Students, to be sure, but still.

Though it absolutely crushed her to stop him, she wasn’t sure he could hear and was not willing to be caught there with him by two students. Not by anyone, for that matter.

Painstakingly, she brought her foot up to his shoulder and shoved him back. Grabbing her wand, she hopped off the shelf and cast the fastest disillusionment charm of all time, then grabbed him and pulled him under the shelf she’d been being pleasured on.

It was just in time, as the students peered around the corner and stepped between the stacks.

Hermione had to hold in a gasp as she recognized them as a pair of seventh year Ravenclaws she’d caught during rounds. They’d been… acting out a particular student/professor fantasy in the unused Ancient Runes classroom.

How ironic.

“Huh, that’s odd. I could have sworn.”

“Well, as long as we’re here.”

It didn’t matter which one of them said what! They were about to get it on in that same aisle!

There was dropping of bags and the distinct sound of sloppy kisses. Grunts. Giggles.

And Draco’s mouth was suddenly back on her clit after only a small amount of fumbling and searching.

Hermione would have gasped, but her need was so strong that she immediately welcomed the contact. Relief swirled through her, mixed with dread that she would not be able to contain her climactic response. Then again, the prospect of being caught… the fact that they were in plain sight and only disillusioned… it made it all so much more erotic.

His expert fingers curled up into her, his pressure was intense now. Normally, she liked to be licked slowly and thoroughly, but he seemed to be experimenting with speed, and it was much to her delight. Heart pounding out of her chest, she arched into him where she lay, sprawled on her back, now only dimly aware of the sounds of the couple who were going at it mere feet away.

Finally, she came. Her mouth was cemented open, and she let out a soundless scream as she was brought perfectly by his fingers and mouth. Once the contact on her clit was too much, he moved to kissing all around on her thighs, and running his fingers over her hip bones.

It was such a loving sort of caress, she had never experienced anything like it from him before. There was nothing for her to do but lay there, as the couple was still at it.

Then he was kissing her neck again, taking both of her hands in his and interlacing their fingers.

“Hermione,” he said into her neck.

Then he ran a thumb over her pulse point and she wondered again why he was focusing on that particular spot.

Just then…

“Aha!” The shrill voice of Madame Pince filled the aisle, and a wave of shock flew through Hermione before she remembered that they were still disillusioned.

“You two again! I’ll have you banned from the library!”

As the library matron descended upon her quarry, Hermione had the sudden urge to get as far away from this oddly doting version of Draco Malfoy as possible. He had moved off of her at the entrance of Pince into the fray and she took the opportunity to simply stand and flee. She’d had the foresight to grab and disillusion her bag before she’d gone below the shelves.

When she saw that the rest of the library was now empty (it was lunch time) she removed her disillusionment charm. She thought she heard Malfoy call out to her as she stealthily walked away, but she ignored it.

Her progress out of the library was halted when she then heard Madame Pince say, “Malfoy! What were you doing down there?”

She gasped. The charm. It had been for both of them, and she’d just removed it.

A number of realities crashed upon her at once.

He would be expelled for certain.

Her plan for SPEW would be crushed.

Not to mention her fabulous orgasms.

She turned back and made her way to the stacks, peering around the corner at the scene. Pince had picked up Malfoy by the ear, even though he was about two feet taller than her. Both Ravenclaws stood, backs against the books, looking a mixture of stunned and disgusted.

There was nothing for it. Hermione did the only thing she could think to do.

“Stupefy!”

Pince was down.

“Stupefy! Stupefy!”

Ravenclaws, neutralized.

Then, with a forced sense of calm, she strode over to all three in turn and said, “Obliviate.”

The memory of performing this same charm on two death eaters in a muggle café swam into her mind, and she brushed it away.

Those were the kinds of thoughts that didn’t need thinking on.

She positioned the couple as if they had fallen asleep in one another’s embrace, and then turned to levitate Madame Pince. All the way back to her desk the witch went. Hermione had implanted the memory that she’d simply put her head down for a moment of shut-eye and fallen fully asleep.

Once she was finished with that task, she looked up and saw Draco staring at her, completely gobsmacked.

“Granger, you…that was…”

“It was necessary. That was far too close. I won’t be taking any chances like that with you again.”

Then she turned to leave, but Malfoy reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his lips now dangerously close to hers.

But they never did affection. Never did sincerity. She kept her face impassive, and simply pulled away without a "you're welcome" or really any indication that she had heard him. Mumbling something about not wanting to miss lunch, she swiftly exited the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this chapter doesn't switch to Draco's POV, I will post another of similar length in one week, rather than making you wait two :) I AM SO NICE TO YOU, AREN'T I??????
> 
> COMMENTS ARE COOL


	5. Director's Commentary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a bonus chapter since the last one was a little short. 
> 
> Here's my NO LEMONS warning.
> 
> Because in this fic, it's more unusual to have a chapter without lemons than with.
> 
> Hashtag nolemons

Draco arrived back at his dorm, desperately needing to forego lunch in the great hall in favor of doing some much needed deliberation.

His plan had not turned out exactly as… planned. 

He’d had the idea to go and find her in the library to coax her into the stacks with him. Then, he could proceed to slip in some comments that would make him seem more arduous than she would perhaps expect… just to fuck with her a bit.

That part had gone perfectly.

He’d also planned on planting the pulse monitor on her wrist, a device he’d recently procured from a wizard sex shop (owl order) which allowed one’s partner to essentially experience the pleasure of the other, in order to ensure maximum performance. 

Mission accomplished.

Her comment about his adequacy, however, had shifted his overall aim for the day.

He had only intended to play a game with her of having to keep her voice down, but the added insult to his prowess in the bedroom had made it that much sweeter that he’d brought in the pulse monitor.

In addition, he’d managed to snag one of her finished letters from the table when he’d leaned over her, and was about to break the seal and see what had been so important that she’d taken her free period to write it.

But before giving that his full attention, he found himself trying to puzzle out why she’d saved him.

Surely, she should have allowed him to be caught. Why put herself in such peril as to attack a Hogwarts staff member? It went against everything he thought he knew about her.

Then again, so did their whole arrangement.

Perhaps there was more to her than he knew. 

She had more Slytherin in her than expected… and now she literally had a Slytherin in her on a regular basis.

Haha. Oh, word play.

Brushing away the train of thought, he opened the letter and began to read.

It was to Lovegood, asking her to become part of something called SPEW.

What the fuck was SPEW? A truly regrettable acronym, he thought.

Come to think of it, he’d seen a few students sporting badges with the same letters and had thought little of it. He made a mental note to corner one of them soon and find out what it meant.

His opportunity to do so came that evening at dinner.

“Creevy!”

The second-year cousin to the Creevy brothers turned around slowly and regarded Draco with giant, glassy bug eyes. These were made all the more jarring by the thick, round glasses he wore. A sad imitation of Harry Potter, with a prescription fit for a bat.

“M-m-m Mr. m-m-m-Malfoy, S-s-s-sir?”

Oh bother. This could take a while.

Keen on speeding up the interaction, Draco pointed to the sparkling badge on the boy’s robes.

“What does it stand for?” he asked, trying his best to sound non-threatening so the kid would maybe get his words out quicker.

Creevy looked down at the badge and back up at Draco, cocking his head to the side.

“What this? But why would you…”

“I’m asking the questions here,” Draco growled, taking a step closer.

Creevy visibly and audibly gulped before words began to pour out of his mouth at a rapid pace.

“The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! It’s Miss Granger’s organization to help the house elves receive fair treatment! Lovely chatting with you, I really must be off!”

With that, he sprinted away from Draco and disappeared from hall.

_Elfish welfare._

Something clicked in his brain. He remembered her first attempt to start this asinine club back in fourth year. Potter and Weasley had been some of her only members, but as he scanned the Great Hall he noticed badges proudly sat on a majority of the robes.

Obviously, these people couldn’t truly give a shit about house elves. It looked more like a trend everyone was trying to be a part of.

He took the letter to Luna Lovegood out again and re-read it, now with the correct context in place.

So, she needed board members. Seemed pretty panicked about it that day in the library as well.

Was their some sort of elf genocide being planned that he was unaware of?

And why hadn’t she ever mentioned this to him?

Wait, that was a stupid thought, why would she mention anything about her life to him, really?

They just fucked. That was it.

He didn’t care what she did in her spare time.

Then again, in his little crusade to make her fall in love with him, this could be exceedingly valuable information.

So she needed board members, huh? Well what could be more useful than having a Pureblood owner of house elves on her side?

It would be the perfect way to sway her towards caring for him.

He entered his dorm and tossed the letter to Lovegood in the fire as he passed by.

A voice came from behind the curtain around Theo’s four-poster.

“Burning evidence, Malfoy?”

Turning around, Draco saw Theo’s eye peeking through the slit in the bed hangings.

“What’s he done now?” came Blaise’s voice from out of sight.

“Oh good, you're both here. Are you decent?”

 _“Are we ever?”_ They responded in unison.

“Well put some pants on and meet me in the common room, I have something to discuss with both of you."

They weren't really his friends, but they had enough in common to respect one another.

It was quick thinking on Draco's part to tap them as a resource. They both could use the money, given that their parents were not in support of their relationship, and were withholding their trusts indefinitely.

He gave them a deal worth their while and they agreed to be on the board of SPEW that day. His instructions to them had been to approach Hermione together, and “out” as a secret to her to gain her trust. Then, confess they heard she’s looking for board members and they’d like to volunteer as a way of improving their image and also righting a terrible wrong.

They didn’t hate their house elves, but neither were particularly fussed about the damn things. Still, they could play it up a bit. Everything else, was entirely true. Their public image was more fucked than Draco’s. Shunned from families behind bars? Does it get any sadder?

Draco wondered why they bothered attending school. They should go get settled in the US, away from their histories.

It’s what Draco would do if he weren’t waiting on an inheritance.

As soon as he could get married and have it, he’d see about leaving Britain.

It didn’t really matter to him who he married, he didn’t intend to be faithful, given that it likely wouldn’t be up to him to choose the wife.

He wasn’t sure exactly how it would go, given that his parents were under house arrest for a year. It probably wasn’t something he had to think about any time soon.

_**WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE!** _

Probably some stuck up pureblood bitch with a stick up her arse, who wouldn’t be able to hold a stimulating conversation if it meant she could have all the money in their inevitable divorce.

_Hint: she wouldn’t get it._

Anyway, that was just plot exposition. Let’s get back to the saucy story!

.

.

*** Quick Peek into Hermione’s POV ***

**.**

“So what the both of you are saying is that you’d like to serve as board members of my non-profit?”

“Yes,” Theo said.

“That’s correct,” added Blaise.

She crossed her arms. This was so odd.

“Tell me something, how did you even know I was looking? Who is this mysterious source?”

Though she may have imagined it, Hermione thought she heard one of them stomp on the other’s foot under their robes. It happened so quickly before they were talking again.

“We have house elves, house elves talk,” Blaise said, with a slight strain to his voice.

She squinted at him. “Yes, but I’ve only been looking for board members for a few weeks, you haven’t been home in that time.”

Blaise cocked an eyebrow at her. “I have elves loyal to me here. My Mum set ours free and some of them work for Hogwarts now. They still relate to me as a master, though I don’t order them to. I overheard them in the Slytherin dorms talking about your plans.”

He grinned. “They aren’t very fond of you, most of them, you know?”

Now she definitely wasn’t imagining it, Theo elbowed Blaise in the ribs.

“You fucking tit!” he said, shoving Theo. Theo grabbed his collar, however, and pulled Blaise’s face to meet his.

“When we’re trying to convince the lovely lady to allow us to help her, perhaps we shouldn’t degrade her entire operation to her face, hmm?”

“I wasn’t saying anything degrading! Just the truth! And furthermore, it’s relevant to her interests and ours, because I bet we could get our own elves on her side, and have them go convince others. We can convince them all to expect freedom and pay!”

“You know,” Hermione said, “That’s actually a fantastic idea. You’re on.”

Theo and Blaise looked over at her in surprise. “Really?!

“Yes, really. I’m totally okay with you both doing all this free work for me just for being publicly attached to my name. I can’t believe, by the way, that I can essentially use my image as currency. Isn’t that a load of bollocks?”

Blaise looked at her, perplexed. “A load of bollocks that nearly everyone that matters thinks you’re amazing and would do anything to be connected with you?”

She nodded matter-of-factly. “Yea. It’s pure bollocks.”

“Uh, which part? The part where you’re consistently given the benefit of the doubt? The part where you have job security for life? Or the part where your absolute fucking darkest days are already behind you?”

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“Which part?”

“Any of it. Alright? Don’t talk like you know me. You’re on the bloody board.”

She reached into her pocket and withdrew two golden coins, tossing them to each man in turn.

“I’ll use these to contact you. Keep them in your pockets where you can feel them. Feel free to just start working on convincing your elves.”

After she’d walked away and rounded a corner, she heard what sounded like a high five followed by a muffled, “wow, that actually hurt quite a bit.”

.

.

*** Peek back into Draco’s POV ***

**.**

The plan had worked, Theo and Blaise were officially board members. He wasn’t sure if that fulfilled Hermione’s needs entirely, but she seemed far less stressed in the days following their ruse.

Coincidentally, Blaise and Theo seemed to have developed an actual liking of the cause they were only pretending to support. He found them holding court with a variety of the Hogwarts elves in their dorm room one night. They were campaigning for Granger. Of course she would lead a cause whose victims do not even want the cause in the first place and need to be talked into it. Bleeding heart Gryffindors.

And apparently, Slytherins. Or else, they were just better suited for politics all around.

It didn’t matter to him how they went about it, he just needed it to work out. That way, he could spring it on her as a romantic gesture that he had asked Theo and Blaise to offer their help. He didn’t want to tell her until he was sure it would work out well for her.

He needed to play both the long and the short games.

With that long-game move laid out, he refocused on the short.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
_**And now for something entirely different, let’s cut to Parvati and Lavender in the booth!**_

_**Ladies? What say you about this crazy plot?** _

 

 _**P: Well thank you so much, Ms. Silver, we are honored to be here today.** _  
_**L: Yes, we love you!** _  
_**LS: Oh thank you, ladies, truly. That’s so surprising to me seeing as I haven’t included either of you in any of my stories so far.** _  
_**P &L: shrug emojiiii!** _  
_**LS: Alright, well I hope this weird aside makes up for it! Let’s hear that commentary!** _

_**P: You got it, Ms. Silver. Well, it says here that Draco is playing sort of a long game/short game con. He’s engaging her in little intrigues at present, while also setting up longer, more thought out gestures of love, so it will be harder not to believe.** _

_**L: That’s right Parvti, and Hermione is already a bit thrown by it, isn’t she? In that last scene in the library it felt like she was getting freaked out by Draco’s pillow talk.** _

_**P: That’s right! But she also said it would be a bonus if he fell in love with her…** _

_**L: She did, but I think that she’s forgetting herself. I think that she likes it when he’s all doting, and that scares her!** _

_**P: Oh holy shit, I didn’t even realize that.** _

_**L: Yea, you gotta pay close attention.** _

_**P: So, Lav, who do you think will win in this secret battle of wits?** _

_**L: *ahem* sexy wits.** _

_**P: Oh yes, sexy wits!** _

_**L: Well, I actually don’t believe either will win.** _

_**P: Is that right?** _

_**L: Yes, I think they’ll both have their hearts broken one way or another, and they’ll be complete arseholes about it and it will never work out.** _

_**P: Ms. Silver, is this story HEA?** _

_**LS: Have any of my stories had unhappy endings so far?** _

_**L: Oh um, we haven’t actually read any.** _

_**P: Seeing as we aren’t in them.** _

_**LS: Yea, that’s fair. No worries. Let’s leave it for the readers to decide in the comments! Where are we headed in this story, gang? Parvati, Lavender, and I can’t wait to hear what you have to say.** _

_**P: Yep that’s right! Until next time!** _

_**L: Ciao Bella!** _

_**P: What was that?** _

_**L: Just trying to sound more… exotic!** _

_**P: Oh, fair play. It definitely did.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't need to put anything here, I talked to you from inside the story


	6. Dummies With Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was like a really stubborn poop. I took some plot fiber and things moved right along...

Back to the game…

Hermione was exhausted. Her classes that day had dragged on and on, or perhaps she was just anxious to continue working on her non-profit paperwork, as she was now so close to having all she needed to send it off.

She simply could not believe her good fortune for Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott coming to her in their time of need, which just happened to coincide with her own! It was far too perfect to be a coincidence, but she hardly cared.

Perhaps some fan of hers had caught on to her plans and urged them towards her. It really didn't matter, and her curiosity on the subject was dim enough that she let the embers fully die and pressed on with her work.

She'd been so busy that she hadn't seen Draco since the incident in the library a few days prior. Part of their pattern had been to meet for a quick broom closet romp in the middle of the day when they were both free, but he hadn't come to find her like any other Wednesday.

Happy hump day, indeed.

No matter, she could always service herself that evening if he was going to pull away from her. She would find a way to rope him back in when necessary.

With so many balls in the air, she couldn’t just be thinking about his. WINKY FACE.

It was odd, though, given his rather arduous comments while they were fooling around in the library, that he would pull away at all.

He had said that she’d been his fantasy. Could that be true? If so, for how long?

Or had he just been saying that?

The latter was likely the case, and she shook the thought from her mind as she stepped into her private quarters.

She stopped and gasped when she saw Draco sitting on one of the chairs in her main room. He looked up from the book he was holding, and she stared at the cover, recognition washing over her.

“Are you reading Pride and Prejudice?!”

“And Zombies, actually. I read the original a long time ago, but saw this on your shelf,” he said, gesturing to her packed book nook. “I couldn't resist finding out what it was like.”

Hermione still stood in the doorway, her body frozen as she attempted to process the scene.

“And?” she found herself saying.

He looked down, giving the book an appraising once over.

“Ridiculous yet enjoyable, if I'm only going off the first half or so.”

“How long have you been here that you've read half the book already?!”

He smirked. “I'm a very fast reader, Granger.”

Her eyes widened for a moment and it was not missed by him. Standing from the couch and tossing the book aside he strode forward, hands in pockets, and said, “does that turn you on?”

“No,” she said, far too quickly.

It definitely did. It absolutely, positively, bet your entire Gringotts vault her knickers were already wet, did.

He smirked knowingly. “Well, that's good, because I didn't come here for sex.”

She blinked. What had he just said? Her mind was all jostled around and she hadn’t comprehended the words, as if they were a sentence in a book she’d read repeatedly without taking in.

“Come again?” she uttered.

He shook his head. “No, unfortunately, I won't.”

She blinked some more. Blinking was an acceptable form of communication, she told herself.

He walked up to her and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, as any Draco Malfoy would do to a Hermione Granger, in any trope really, if he was to embody some form of tenderness and care. Tuck tuck tuck those curls, Draco.

Anyway, it worked, because she shivered at his touch. 

“I just came to say thank you.”

“Again?” she said in a small voice. Damn it, what was happening to her?!

He nodded.

“Why?” she said in that same voice.

He laughed and smiled warmly at her. 

With warmth!

“Because you really didn't have to do that,” he said in a low rasp, leaning in and pressing his forehead to hers. “And you know it.”

She gaped at him, her mind whirring into action.

Of course she’d had to do it!

“Of course I had to do it!”

Only, she didn't get the sentence out. Exactly as it is written above is how she had intended to dramatically shout it at him as she shoved him away from her.

For some reason, she had instead felt her voice to fade out after “of course...” and then time seemed to slow as she grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a gentle, ever so sensual kiss. It was more like their first kiss than any she'd had since. She brought her hands up to graze his jawline and felt the usual rigidity in him melt away as her fingers went exploring up into his hair.

A tiny voice in her head was screaming for her to stop, but it was like she’d been sucked into some parallel universe where her gut instincts were all she had. Logic be damned. Strangely, she felt as though he was being similarly affected.

Her touch was filled with wonder where it’d previously been filled with fury or passion. She was discovering him slowly, and she could feel his reciprocation as he ran his thumb back and forth on her collarbone. His other hand was locked in her curls, without grabbing them menacingly as he usually did.

That shit was tender, if you're not picking up what I'm putting down.

Suddenly, he drew back and confusion flooded her brain. He seemed like he'd just remembered something terrible or urgent.

“S-Sorry,” he said. “I've just… I have to... go.”

“Go? Go where?” She said with far too much panic in her voice for her liking.

He did not meet her eyes, but stared distractedly at the floor. Then he scanned the room before locking on a particular spot. He strode purposefully toward it and grabbed something up off a chair before turning toward the door and disappearing in five long strides.

Hermione couldn't say a thing as this happened. After he'd gone, she squinted over at the chair for several long moments before realizing what he'd taken.

“And zombies,” she muttered aloud.

Her heart fluttered mischievously, and she scowled down at her traitor-filled-chest.

“Fuck me,” she said to the room at large.

 

**oOoOoOo**

 

Hermione lay in bed, attempting to sleep after that bizarre interaction with Draco. She was all confused. Head flooded with… feelings.

She hadn’t had feelings in such a long time.

Perhaps the war had slowly numbed her out to such things. Perhaps it was the post war nonsense that really had them deadened to the root… or so she’d thought.

In that moment, however, she couldn’t get Draco out of her head. The way he casually grinned at her, and not in a mocking way. His seemingly genuine gratitude for what she’d done in the library. His… proficiency with reading.

It was so stupid and she fucking hated herself for how much it did turn her on, but she couldn’t help it. Godric be damned, it was sexy.

She put her hands over her face and groaned loudly. Anxiety began creeping into her chest, daring her to try for some sleep. Of course this would happen the night before her earliest class.

Finally, she recalled her declaration to service herself in the absence of Draco’s company that night. Slipping her hand below her blanket and between her legs, she began slowly, gently massaging herself, noting that there was no arousal to be found there just yet.

Determined not to think about Draco Malfoy, she went to her default fantasy: the tall dark and handsome American muggle she’d met when on holiday with her parents in Australia. He’d been there with his family as well, and they’d had a steamy summer fling.

She recalled the first time they’d fucked, and the slow, almost painful lead up to it. The walk on the beach, hands accidentally touching. The stories he’d shared with her about his deepest dreams and desires. How they’d settled on a blanket and merely read next to one another for hours before he’d teased her, pinching her side and making her laugh. She’d retaliated in kind, and it had become a pointless wrestling match. The kind that both parties knew would lead to beach fucking, though neither would come out and say it.

Pressing soft circles over her clit as she brought back the full-bodied memory, she felt herself begin to warm, a subtle wetness growing there.

His tickling turned into soft caressing and he grasped her hips in his hands, grazing his thumbs over her hip bones and clearing his throat nervously. She had run her hands up his chest, over his firm pectorals and up to his collarbone. She’d thought long and had about licking that collar bone, so leaning in to do so felt as natural as the breeze blowing her hair.

Yea, this was such a reliable memory. Perfectly tantalizing and sinful.

As the recollection of his long, slender fingers sliding up her thighs between her skirt entered her mind, she slipped her knickers aside just as he had, and glided her fingers gently into her now throbbing wet cunt. A long moan left her lips as she did so.

She would go slow. She would be patient. She would tease herself.

In her mind, he was whispering in her ear, “I would love to taste you here. Will you let me?”

Ugh, consent was so sexy. Am I right, ladies?!

She’d whispered “Yes, please.”

He hadn’t wasted time, but had pressed her back onto the blanket and lowered his head between her legs.

Lapping at her like a puppy desperate for water, he’d sent her to another planet.

Fuck going slow, she was already so close. She pressed her palm against her clit and sped up her hand, as well as the memory, imagining the feel of him when he had finally entered her. The sea breeze blowing on them, the tantalizing pressure of wondering whether they were being watched. She had winced at first, closing her eyes as he’d stretched her, before forcing them open again to stare up into his gray eyes, whisps of blonde hair falling in front of them.

Wait… what?

Her eyes shot open in real life, but simultaneously she felt herself begin to climax.

Bucking her hips and grinding into her own hand, she moaned loudly as her whole body convulsed with pleasure. It went on for a few more waves than she expected, and her throat was dry from panting. She finished the deed feeling both satisfied and unsettled all over again.

Godric damn that Draco Malfoy, he was even infiltrating her tried and true fantasies!

Throwing back the covers in frustration, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stepped into her slippers, rising to find her bath robe. Grabbing her wand from the night table, she cleaned away the wetness from her hand and between her legs and headed out into her common area.

Grabbing the marauder’s map, she muttered the usual words, located him, and then tossed it back down and headed for the door. As an afterthought, she flung her wand over her shoulder and said, “mischief managed,” then exited her dorm.

 

**oOoOoOo**

 

*Back to Draco, just after he’d left her dorm*

Draco pressed his back desperately against the castle wall, arms splayed out over cold stone, chest heaving.

What the fuck was that?

He’d had the air knocked from him with her kiss. Why should that be the case? They’d been snogging like mad for weeks and he’d never been so affected. He’d come to her room to play games with her mind, not the other way around.

Yet somehow, when she’d pulled him in for that kiss, his entire body had gone into surrender mode. She’d felt so… open. So different in that moment. He’d felt himself soften and open up to her for about ten seconds before the warning bells in his mind had gone off. Thank Merlin.

He pushed off the wall and walked briskly down the corridor, moving vaguely in the direction of his dorm.

Before he knew it, he found himself stopping outside of a familiar door. He’d never gone inside Snape’s old office, but merely lingered outside each time. Drank on the floor. Contemplated the futility of the future…

For whatever reason, he found himself approaching the door. He knew it had been sealed, as he’d heard some second year Ravenclaws saying they’d tried to get in and had gotten hexed. Something told him he wouldn’t suffer the same fate, and sure enough, he turned the doorknob easily and went inside.

The old potion’s master’s room was just as he’d remembered it. Clearly, the room had been being serviced by the elves even though people wouldn’t be regularly visiting. It was a shrine to the man.

Draco wondered whether it had been Snape’s wish to have this room preserved. It seemed more like something a sentimental sap like Dumbledore would have planned.

Then again, Snape had outlived Dumbledore, planned death or no.

“A sickle for your thoughts, Draco?” a sneering voice from behind him said.

His mind processed what was happening very quickly. He would have turned, wand drawn, had he not known the voice so well. Sure, he’d never thought he’d hear it again, and yet somehow he had been expecting to.

It was a rough day for logic.

As Draco turned to face the portrait, he couldn’t help a smirk from forming on his face.

“Omniscient as ever, I see,” he said.

Snape raised a brow. “Something like that, though portrait frames do have their limitations. I only come down here when I need to get away from the chatter of former headmasters.”

Of course. Draco had never considered the fact that there would be a portrait in the Head’s office, but given that his Godfather had been in the position for a farce of a full school year, it made complete sense.

When Draco didn’t respond, Snape went on. “What brings you down here, Son?”

He felt a prickle in his eyes like he might cry and blinked it back violently before glaring at the portrait and giving the man a terse shrug.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to perform legilimency to know you’re full of dragon dung, Draco.”

“Portraits can’t perform spells,” Draco said, almost looking for confirmation of that fact. Snape raised a brow and cocked his head at that. Double whammy!

“Indeed.”

A long silence stretched between them before Draco spoke again.

“You’re not even real, you’re just a memory!”

“And yet,” Snape said, in his former haughty manner, “here you are spending an evening with me, so we must conclude that on some level this is, in fact, real.”

Draco scoffed and began pacing the room. His mind was racing. This was fucking stupid. He was alone (truly alone!) in an abandoned office shrine thingy, talking to paint on canvas like some lunatic. What was even the point of this? What was the point of anything really?

“You know,” Snape said, and Draco stilled his pacing at the sound of the man’s voice. “You can deny, drink, and fuck your pain away, Draco, but it will still be there waiting for you whenever you lose the stamina necessary for total avoidance.”

Draco gaped at him.

“How do you know-”

Snape leisurely examined his nails as he said, “Portraits talk.”

Another thing Draco ought to have realized.

“I have to say, your choice of… intimate partner… had me reeling at first. I couldn’t believe my painted ears. Had to see it for myself.”

“You spied on me?” Draco growled.

“Indeed. I have to say, I didn’t take you for a broom closet brute.”

“We do it in her room as well.”

“Ah, well then, that certainly makes up for the lack of propriety.”

“You’ve nothing to say about her birth status then?”

Another raised eyebrow. The man should have been painted with it permanently raised.

“You haven’t heard my full story, Draco? How can that be?”

“What story?”

If Draco’s night had already thrown him for a loop, he was about to be sent into orbit around the Earth.

Snape proceeded to explain the entire tale of Severus Snape and the Unrequited Obsession with Lily Potter (née Evans). When he’d finished, Draco was pacing silently around the room for a while.

Eventually, he said, “I always blamed myself.”

Portrait Snape regarded him curiously. “For what exactly?”

Draco looked up at him, staring directly into oil paint eyes. “Your death. If it wasn’t for me…”

“Do not be ridiculous, Draco. Is that what you’ve been drowning your sorrows in with firewhiskey and Ms. Granger’s attentions?”

Draco glared at him. “I don’t drown myself in her.”

The eyebrow raising count was going to get cray cray.

“I used to say the same of myself and Lily Evans, you know.”

“It’s different!”

“Is it? How?”

“In basically every way, that’s how.”

“Really? It seems to me you have feelings for a muggle born girl, would do anything to make her happy…”

“I’m manipulating her for sport, Severus, not making her happy. You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Awfully fiery for a man not in love.”

Draco stilled completely and stared at the portrait before a smile spread across his face.

“I’m not in love with her,” he said with a laugh.

Snape cocked his head. “Fair enough, I suppose it would be too soon for that, but my point stands that you feel something for the girl.”

“Yea, I feel that she is the most infuriating, stuck up, know-it-all bitch I’ve ever met.”

After a moment of appraising him, Snape said, “Be careful Draco. She’s far more ruthless than you believe her to be.”

Draco blinked stupidly at this. What was he playing at now?

“I’ve been surviving just fine without your council, thanks. I think I know who I’m dealing with.”

“Ah yes, and the key word there is… think.” He over-pronounced the last word in that super Snapey way we all love.

Draco did not love it.

He spun around and stormed from the room as if he’d been in a real conversation with an actual person. He shook his head, feeling infinitely foolish after being spoken to that way, by a dead man, no less!

He was so lost in his inner turmoil that he didn’t hear Hermione calling his name until he was well down the hallway, almost to the Slytherin dorms, by the time he turned to see her running to catch up to him.

He stopped and watched her slow down to a brisk walk, her cheeks flushed, presumably from the running. She was in a bath robe and slippers, and for a moment he felt a surge of panic that something might be terribly wrong before shaking it from himself.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” she hissed.

He raised an eyebrow in a fabulous imitation of the painted man he’d just been interrogated by.

“If that’s some sort of accusation, Granger, you’re going to need to be more specific. I play at a lot of things.”

She scrunched up her face and stifled a growl, glancing around the corridor as if trying to find her words there.

“What was all that… about? That little scene in my room. And what were you doing in Snape’s office? Were you meeting to someone in there? I heard voices.”

Draco squinted at her, stepping forward slowly. “Since it’s question time, I have one for you. How did you know I was in there?”

“What?”

“Just now, you were waiting outside for me. I presume you couldn’t get inside?” he said, glancing down at her right hand. Sure enough, a red burn mark was branded across her palm. She noticed his gaze and covered her hand.

“Nothing Madame Pomfrey couldn’t fix.”

He had an urge to reach out and take her hand in his. He’d learned a number of healing charms during the war and could have it fixed in a moment, but he restrained himself.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said instead.

“You didn’t answer any of mine,” she said, raising her chin in that infuriatingly superior way.

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Don’t see why I should either.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

He glared at her. She was nothing to him. Just a good fuck. Snape had no idea what he was talking about.

She glared back, and he could feel the unbridled hatred cascading out of her eyeballs.

This had been a perfect situation for him, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up by entertaining some insane accusation of having feelings for the witch.

Suddenly there was a noise from within the Slytherin common room, and Draco instinctively grabbed Hermione and pulled her around a corner. He heard the door of the common room open and Slughorn’s voice call out, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Grabbing the handle of the nearest door, Draco wrenched it open and shoved Hermione inside, turning around just as Slughorn came into view and saw him standing there.

“Hello, Professor.”

Slughorn did that stupid bug-eye face he always did, even when things weren’t all that shocking.

“Why, Mr. Malfoy! What are you doing out of bed at this late hour?”

Draco walked forward in a subtly menacing way that was more reminiscent of Tom Riddle than even he knew. Cunning, suave, and consequently… hot AF.

Slughorn bristled at the sight. The man still had nightmares about the young dark lord, and not the sexy kind. Eww, that would be so weird. That’s not a plunny, do not make that a plunny, please.

“Apologies, Professor. I couldn’t sleep and needed to take a walk to clear my mind.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows went up again. “Indeed. Well, even still… we have rules, Mr. Malfoy. I will have to give you a detention.”

Draco withheld a sneer with all his might. What a fucking inconvenience this would be.

He inclined his head at the bumbling professor and made to follow him back to the common room when Slughorn stopped in his tracks, seeming to notice sound coming from behind the door where Hermione stood.

“What ever could that be?” he mumbled aloud.

“Peeves, Professor,” Draco said. “I was just chasing him away from the Slytherin common room when you came out. I daresay he’s waiting behind that door to pour frogspawn on the first unfortunate soul to cross the threshold.”

“Indeed!” said bug eyes.

And that was that. Draco followed him back to the dorms and went to bed.

The favor was now repaid, detention was on the horizon, and he was resolute in his conviction to keep his feelings for the witch solely physical.

Hahahahahaha. Ok, dummy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who's more smitten? *thinky emoji*


	7. The Upper Hand Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so it's a blow job, but the title was too good to pass up

Hermione stood in the broom closet, shell shocked. He'd taken the fall for her. He'd kept her out of trouble.

Even though... if she'd been caught out by Slughorn, she would have been able to explain it away with Prefect duties. The sensible thing would have been for Malfoy to hide himself in the closet.

Now there's a metaphorical image. Hmmm...

Well, he'd done it, and Merlin knew why. She'd have to ponder it later.

Slipping out of the broom closet, she made her way back to her quarters.

As she pushed the door open, she felt a swirl of hope that she'd find Malfoy sitting in that same seat in her common area.

But alas, friends... alas alas...

Wow it starts to not even feel like a real word, huh?

Alas! He was not there, and Hermione stomped annoyedly to her bedroom, inwardly cursing her extremely inconvenient hope to share a bed with him that night.

It was just because of the sex, that was all. She could tell herself that on a constant loop if she had to.

Oh, and she would have to.

 

oOoOoOoOoOo

 

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind, so I'll give you the highlight reel first:

  * \- Malfoy completed his detention with Slughorn the very next night, and then proceeded to ignore Hermione resolutely in an attempt to wash the slate clean of any apparent care he may have shown for the witch.  

  * \- Meanwhile, Hermione noted his standoffishness, and rather than press him, she responded in kind. She was not about to get her heart broken by Malfoy, because wow... just no.  

  * \- They both ate their feelings for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and tea time.  

  * \- Their regular romps became non-existent, and it seemed like they'd warped back to a time when their only interactions had been antagonistic. Even that, however, had seemed to disappear.  

  * \- Their potions partnership had become stoic, at best. All business, with neither of them mentioning anything other than the essential instructions to one another. Not even any playful banter!  

  * \- And finally... Hermione submitted all of her paperwork and got APPROVED as an honest to goodness Non-profit, complete with board members and a wealthy benefactor (more on that soon)



And by soon, I mean now!

 ***ONE MONTH LATER***  
**(Yea, a whole month of no sex - stubborn fuckers) (or non-fuckers, in this case)**

 

Hermione stepped into the room, flanked by a house elf who’d been eyeing her with thinly veiled skepticism ever since she'd arrived on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor.

She'd been there a few weeks prior for their initial meeting, and some of the shock from being in the place where she'd been tortured had thankfully worn off.

As she crossed the threshold, she felt rather than heard Lucius Malfoy's cold drawl creep up her spine.

“Ah, Miss Granger. Punctual as ever.”

She turned and saw him seated behind his large mahogany desk.

Compensating much?

The bitter comment floated through her mind for only a moment before she thought better of it.

If “like father like son” had any validity, then Lucius Malfoy surely did not need to compensate with large furniture pieces.

But she didn't even wanna go there.

Just yuck.

I mean, he was pretty hot and all, but she'd fucked his son and so thinking of him sexually was just all kinds of weird.

“Stand there lost in thought much longer, Miss Granger, and I'll be tempted to try my hand at legillimency.”

She glared at him and he smirked before bringing quill to page once again and muttering, “just a warning.”

“A barbaric one,” she said, striding into the room with more than just a little indignant huff.

She sat on the edge of the brown leather chair in front of his desk, not intending to stay for long.

“Your house elves don't trust me,” she said, and Lucius laughed unwittingly.

She stared back at him, mouth agape, never having heard him make such a noise.

He quelled it quickly, but the sound and sight would be forever burned into her mind.

“They’ve heard about your… efforts, and being from an ancient and noble family, are not particularly interested in freedom, as I am sure you are well aware.”

“Dobby didn’t seem to think so, and he came from your most noble and ancient house.”

A flicker of a sneer crossed his face for the briefest of brief moments.

“Yes, well, I can’t account for lack of sanity in already sub-human creatures.”

Hermione’s blood boiled.

Sure, she knew that she’d accepted money from a man who neither aligned with nor cared for her cause. She knew that he was only doing it to try and save the face of his family name.

Still, she had (rather stupidly) hoped that he would at least play the part of the reformed blood purist along the way.

“You know… I can’t say why, but for some reason I believe you’ve warned them about me. Perhaps told them things that would put them off and make them treat me warily just for sport?”

He looked up from his parchment now and fixed her with a menacing glare. She did not break eye contact. The thing about Lucius Malfoy, and his son bore this trait as well, was that he needed to be out-stood. She therefore matched his abrasive energy as chess move of sorts.

“Do you wish to conduct business this evening, Miss Granger, or would you rather carry out the entirety of this meeting with accusations on my motivations and character? I can assure you, I would be quite content to keep my vaults as they are.”

She had him dancing! Excellent.

She knew the money was really nothing to him, that it was an empty threat, but she fell silent anyway, allowing him to believe he'd affected her.

After her nod of recognition, he stood and came around to the front of the desk, clearing his throat.

He was now towering over her, which she did not care for in the slightest, but she wouldn’t let him know that. She remained in her chair, not moving a muscle as she glared up at him.

“I’ve decided to change the terms of my donation.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand and she fell silent again, thinking it best not to antagonize him again just yet.

“When you came to me a few weeks ago with your proposal, I was intrigued enough to try it on and see if an alliance between us would do just what you suggested. Raise our family name in public favor and perhaps end this ridiculous house arrest early… but I’ve had… different thoughts since then.”

He paused, but she continued to listen, hoping to Merlin he wasn’t canceling the deal.

“I think my previously proposed sum was rather, meager.”

Well that wasn’t what she was expecting! Her eyebrows flew off her face, flying up near the ancient noble ceiling tiles.

“What do you say we… triple it?”

Her mouth fell open, but no sound was emitted.

“Then, you could not only build a center here in Britain, but expand out to other countries. The plight of the house elf is particularly worrisome, I believe, in Bulgaria. And you are acquainted with Mr. Krum, he could be a source of support… but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Her mind was doing cartwheels with this new proposal. She hadn’t even begun to think about expansion of that sort. Well sure, it had been in the back of her mind, but she’d been so focused on Britain that it had only been a vague inclination.

“Though it does bear mentioning that I’ve already reached out to contacts in a few other locations who might be interested in supporting the cause… including the Australian Ministry.”

Her heart stopped. She could have been proclaimed legally dead.

Surely, Lucius Malfoy was not somehow aware of her parent’s plight?

Suddenly assured and resolute in her intentions, she said, “what do you want?”

A small smirk and tilt of his head, and she couldn’t have hated him more in that moment. He was closing in on checkmate and she could feel it.

“Redemption, Miss Granger. Not the promise of it, but the assurance. The Malfoy name has been desecrated. It is not enough to align myself to your cause with gold, in hopes of getting my house arrest ended. Though, I will say you were smart to come to me with the idea. Clever as you may be, however, you were not thinking big enough.”

“What do you-“

“You will marry into our family. A complete and total public alliance. Our reformation will be undeniable.”

Well, fuck.

She could no longer feel her legs, as Draco’ face swam into her mind and anger began to build inside of her.

“The trouble is,” he went on as if he hadn't just said the most ludicrous thing imaginable. “I will be hard pressed to get Draco to agree to this. You'll need to do some... preparation… before I tell him.”

“I... what?” she said, dumbstruck. His voice sounded to her like it was coming from the other side of a glass pane.

“I want you to become friends with Draco. Get close to him, I can give you a few ideas how. Then, once he's more likely to be amenable to the idea, I will tell him he is required to marry you, and he will agree.”

Hermione swallowed hard and attempted to parse through the words he'd said.

She needed to get Draco to like her, but that was the game she'd been playing already. She'd done well at it, perhaps too well, and had been countering his freeze-out with her own.

She wouldn't tell Lucius Malfoy any of this, of course, it was none of his beeswax.

But she couldn't quite wrap her head around his request based on what she already knew to be true.

Finally, she muttered, “I... I can't-”

“You will, or the deal is off. I've decided that merely aligning with the cause is not enough. Our partnership on your project will begin after your public announcement of marriage in, let’s say, three month's time?”

“Three months?! So we won't be able to move forward for three whole months?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Does this mean you accept my terms?”

She gulped audibly, staring back at him with fury but feeling her resolve dissipate slightly.

She'd have to go back in and get a bit vulnerable with him... and she would have to risk being humiliated.

Would it be worth it?

Dreamily, she imagined her SPEW centers in other countries... Krum on the cover of the prophet giving a speech.... an Australian outpost, and perhaps the chance that Lucius Malfoy knew how to restore their memories. She didn't know that but for sure, but the way he'd dangled Australia over her...

There was nothing for it, she'd have to break the silence between her and Draco.

Getting Draco to fall in love with her was no longer a side-quest, it was the entire game.

“Yes I accept your terms. Now will you tell me your ideas? I need to get back to school soon to study, so I'd appreciate it if you made it quick.”

“Very well, Miss Granger,” he said, extending a hand towards her. She took it, squeezing with a respectable amount of pressure.

“Let's discuss my son’s weaknesses.”

 

oOoOoOoOo!

 

Draco was in the library when he heard it, a voice from nowhere, or perhaps right next to him.

Before he could register where it had come from, there was hot breath on his ear and the words “restricted section” being whispered into it.

The vanilla and cherry scent he’d come to associate with her wafted over him and he rose from his chair without thought. Two parts of him began warring. The part that was a stubborn arsehole and would refuse to get involved again with Granger, given the apparent weaknesses she'd uncovered in him.

The other part was his prick, and it missed Hermione’s quim with all the passion a prick could muster.

Do we like cocks and cunts better?

I think I do.

Ah well, at least it added some variety.

As he strode to the restricted section, he recognized that this was probably a mistake, and yet his feet carried him on. He affected a grim countenance and crossed his arms in challenge when she finally appeared in front of him.

“Hi,” she said.

He made no reply, just stared.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said, and it caught him off guard. He furrowed his brow and she went on.

“I’ve been acting childishly. You covered for me with Slughorn and I've been ignoring you since.”

Draco blinked stupidly. Where was this coming from? He had been the one ignoring her, he was sure of it.

“You've been ignoring ME, Granger?”

“Yes, because... well, I if I'm being completely honest-“

She stopped speaking as if he’d cut her off, but she’d really cut herself off, seeming to steel herself before going on.

“I had noticed that I was… beginning to feel things... and... I didn't want to risk being hurt.”

He didn't dare move. This was everything he’d been wanting.

He had her cornered now, even though she’d been the one to lure him there. Surveying her carefully, he sensed his moment to strike.

“And yet you're here now,” he said.

“I am.”

“Why?”

She let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please don't make me say it.”

Taking two steps toward her, he intoned, “oh you'll say it. I need to hear you say it.”

Removing her hand from her face and looking up at him she said, “I miss you.”

This sent a shockwave through his body. He brushed it away as sexual arousal and smirked at her.

“What exactly do you miss about me, Granger?”

They were inches apart now, and he could feel his body vibrating in anticipation.

He wouldn’t have said he missed her, exactly, but he was certainly sick of his own hand by that point.

“I miss,” she said, and then let her eyelids flutter closed, her chest rising and falling slowly with a deep inhale of breath. His eye was drawn to her chest. One of the buttons of her white school shirt was undone, and he couldn’t tell if she’d left it that way intentionally.

“I miss… your hands gripping my arse while you fuck me.”

His heart rate began to increase and she moved closer, tracing her hand up her side to her neck.

“Your tongue caressing this spot behind my ear.”

She moved closer still. He would not be the first to make contact.

“Your hard cock sliding easily down my throat,” she said, now staring directly into his eyes.

Before he knew it, she had unzipped his trousers and had his cock in her hand. Even more suddenly, she was on her knees before him and was working him deeper and deeper into her mouth. He let out an involuntary moan and leaned back against the stacks behind him.

She reached for his hand and placed it on the back of her head, indicating that he should be in control. It was quite a rare occurrence, but he wasn’t going to question it. Wasting no time, he began thrusting roughly into her.

So she thought she could ignore him, did she? Well, clearly not. He’d give it to her good for ever thinking she’d ever had the upper hand. Her gag reflex inhibitor charm was in full effect and it was glorious. He pounded into her as she moaned with approval.

Eventually he pulled out, holding her head back so that he could look down at her perfect, pouty lips. Running his thumb roughly over them and then inserting it experimentally he said, “You love sucking my cock, don’t you Granger?” She sucked his thumb and dragged her teeth along it as he pulled out, with a breathy “yes.”

Without warning he pushed back inside her mouth and she took it like a champ, allowing him to take complete control. Dimly, he realized she had cast silencing charms around them, because the sounds from the rest of the library were muffled. He therefore allowed himself to speak at full volume.

“Oh fuck…. yes, take it . Take it right down your throat.”

She moaned again in ecstasy and dug her fingernails into his thighs where she was steadying herself. He tightened his grip in her hair and slowed his thrusts, endeavoring to push a bit deeper with each one.

She let out slow, scintillating hums as he did so, and the vibration from her voice sent shivers up his spine. It did him in, he came hard right down her throat and she was ready to receive it.

He was actually impressed by how little she flinched and almost wondered if she had any other sex spells in play that he didn’t know about, but his mind couldn’t latch onto the curiosity for long. The satisfaction and contentment coursing through his system superseded any rational thought.

“Fuck, Granger…. I missed you too… specifically your mouth.”

Then, like magic, he was all cleaned up and she was standing before him.

“I’ll bet there are other parts of me you’d like to be reacquainted with. Come by tonight, I’ll be waiting.”

And just like that, she was gone. She didn’t expect him to reciprocate?

Well, she shouldn’t, considering she had been issuing an apology to him and not the other way around.

Yes, Draco felt quite entitled to his fantastic restricted section blowjob. He went back to his table to finish studying, looking forward to what she might have in store for him later that evening.

It felt wonderful to be back to truly having the upper hand.

Just a great feeling.

Yep, really really great :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laugh with me in the comments


	8. Shrug Emoji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to introduce some new characters up into this piece!
> 
> They're probably only plot devices, but then everyone is getting used in this story...

He was licking her asshole.

Arsehole?

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

She could not believe the sensation it was driving through her.

A month of some of their most adventurous exploits yet, and they had only gotten to this now? She wanted to theorize as to why, but the pleasure he was giving her was far too distracting. His tongue moved around in confident circles, and when he moved it to the center and trust it inside, she howled in ecstasy. Then, she felt his fingers slide into her, and curve in just the right way to make her entire body shudder.

No pressure on her clit whatsoever and she was absolutely coming.

She bucked her hips involuntarily, as she tried desperately to stay still so that she wouldn’t lose the contact of his tongue nor his fingers inside of her. Plus, it was a public bathroom and anyone could walk in at any moment.

In truth, she had put a repelling charm on the door, but Malfoy did not need to know that.

Having secrets from him had made everything more intense for her.

True to form, she felt her orgasm explode through her as he made one particularly deep thrust of his tongue.

On all fours in the shower stall, she cried, “Oh fuck, Malfoy, yes!”

“Call me Draco,” he breathed.

“What?!”

She certainly would be doing nothing of the fucking sort.

“Draco. Say it. Now.”

She realized he had his hand around his own prick and was finishing himself off.

She should just say it. Just acquiesce. Everything in her said not to, but she needed to keep him happy.

She tried to say it, but something caught in her throat and for once it wasn't his seed.

Pushing past her own resistance was one of her strong suits, and she summoned up all of her stubborn resolve for this moment.

“D... Draco...” she said in almost a whisper, and heard him choke instantly. His hot cum sprayed all over her back as he cried, “ugh... Hermione.”

He groaned her name a few more times, and it brought her back to the memory in the library.

_You're my fantasy, Hermione._

He'd used her given name then too, and it'd confused her.

What she felt now was far more than confusion.

She stood and they began to wash off, when suddenly she felt something soft cross her back.

A sponge.

He was fucking washing her?!

A few soapy strokes, and then he was leaning into her, peppering kisses across her shoulder.

She winced at the feel of his lips there.

“Hey... what is it?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him and forced a smile. “N- nothing. I do need to get back to my room, though.”

He began washing his manly bits as he said, “why’s that? Hot date in Hogsmeade to get ready for?”

She laughed nervously. “Not quite.”

Indeed, she had no hot dates; her life was already confusing enough. She DID need to go into Hogsmeade that afternoon, however, as she was in need of a new quill and ink set.

They finished washing and dressed in silence, which was not out of the ordinary.

As she turned to leave, however, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around with a playful, “oh no you don't.”

Then he pulled her lips to his as his fingers curled into her hair, and kissed her so sweetly that it should have been accompanied from some 90’s prime Mariah Carey shit. (That's basically current Ari for you youngs)

When they separated, he caressed her cheek with his thumb and smiled at her in a way that made her knees wobble.

She needed to go ask someone to actually smack her in the face, because this was getting next level fucked up.

She played along to the best of her abilities before bolting from the bathroom, remembering to release her repelling charm as she did so, and headed to her private quarters to wash away the weirdly intimate shower they'd just shared.

 

oOoOoOoOo

After she had re-showered and dressed, she opened the Marauder’s map and ensured that Malfoy was somewhere in the castle before she left.

In the Slytherin dungeons. Perfect. He probably planned to wile away the day reading or something.

Nerd.

Yes, she caught the irony!

Or flat out hypocritical nonsense.

Anyway, she was glad he was staying in.

The last thing she wanted was to run into him in Hogsmeade and give him cause to demand public sex. Sure, it was something she wanted to do (outside of the broom closets of Hogwarts) but she needed to get her head on straight first.

What better way to do so then to buy school supplies and perhaps take a swing around Flourish and Blott’s for a new novel?

Quill purchasing went off without a hitch. She even got a deal! Some were quills on clearance that happened to suit her extremely well. Feeling accomplished in a way that only a good sale could, she trotted merrily down the lane in Hogsmeade before the sight of two wizards about ten feet away (someone please translate this into metric in the comments, thanks) took her breath away.

Her jaw hit cobblestone as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley strode towards her, both wearing identical auror robes and smug smirks to rival Lucius Malfoy’s.

She hadn't heard from them since they'd refused to be on the board of SPEW, and annoyance flared in her chest at the sight of them.

What were they doing there?! They weren't even supposed to be a major part of this story! Where would they even fit in???

She really hoped that she and Ron wouldn't become a “thing” again, in any way. But she was getting ahead of herself.

They approached, and suddenly The Golden Trio™ we're gathered in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade. She glanced around and noticed that no one ...had noticed.

Following her gaze, Harry said, “Notice-me-not charm.”

Of course. She'd read about those somewhere. In the last novel she read? Or perhaps it had been fan fiction.

She hadn't realized they were a thing, and filed it away in her mind as something to look into.

“Brilliant. I bet that comes in handy.”

“It does for sure, we do get recognized nearly everywhere we go. It can severely interfere with our work, as I'm sure you can imagine,” Ron said in a weirdly cocky manner.

Was he flexing? About his popularity? When SHE was just as popular, if not more so?

She found herself clenching her teeth, and turned her gaze to Harry.

“What brings you here?”

He raised a brow in reply, as if to say, “really?”

Hermione tilted her head, as if to ask, “what?”

Ron crossed his arms and pursed his lips, as if to say, “come now, you know why we’re here.”

Hermione shook her head slightly and raised both brows, as if to say, “honestly I really don't get it, so if you two are quite finished with the fucking inferred communication and would care to say something, anything distinct, I'm quite ready to hear it!”

Suddenly, Harry turned to Ron and said, “Hog’s head?”

Ron nodded and they turned, motioning for her to follow.

She wanted to argue, but suspected that the charm would break if she didn't keep in close vicinity to them, and she really didn't want to endure a Golden Trio meet and greet in the street, despite how cute it sounded.

Quickening her pace, she caught up to them without argument and they reached the Hog’s Head, taking the back door up to Aberforth’s private quarters.

“You can just make yourself at home here any time you want, then?”

Harry merely laughed, clearly not feeling that he needed to offer an actual reply.

What ever happened to her humble friend?

Fame could turn even the best people into assholes.

(I'm not even gonna say it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Once they reached the upstairs sitting room and she'd refused to partake in the Firewhisky they were both enjoying, Harry turned a severe gaze on her.

“What are you plotting with Lucius Malfoy?”

If she had had a drink she'd have choked on it.

“Excuse me?”

“You've been to Malfoy Manor,” Ron said.

“Multiple times in the last month,” Harry added.

“Are you following me?”

They both laughed. She grimaced, staring back and forth between them.

She had felt alone, and she had felt like an “other” where they were concerned, but this experience was solidifying the feeling for her in a big way. They were in lock step. May as well be the same person.

“Hermione,” Harry said, in a rather condescending tone. “Lucius Malfoy is under house arrest. All of his movements are catalogued, all of his visitors monitored. Did you really think we wouldn't catch wind of it?”

Her blood boiled at being spoken to this way, and she felt her hand clench around her wand.

“And do you also have transcripts of our conversations?!”

Ron laughed. “If we did then we wouldn't have had to come all the way here would we?”

She snapped her head to glare at him. “Oh that's right, you had to come all the way here. Poor you. Did you walk, then?”

Ron and Harry both grimaced, but did not recoil. “What's gotten into you, Hermione?” Harry asked, the note of concern that would normally have been there once was suspiciously absent.

“Yea,” Ron said. “Why are you so protective? Something you don't want us to know about your visits with Mr. Malfoy?” He raised one brow as he said the last name, and Hermione found that she did not care one bit for the suggestiveness in his tone of voice.

“Oh no you don't, Ronald Weasley. I will not allow you to turn this around on me. I am perfectly entitled to my privacy without having accusations of untoward behavior being flung my way!”

“Untoward... what?” Ron said stupidly.

“Oh don't play dumb. You were just acting all... all-knowing. Pick a side!”

Ron turned to Harry, an incredulous look on his face. “I was just suggesting that she might be shagging him, is that still what we’re talking about?”

“Yes, yes it is,” Harry intoned.

Hermione stood. “I'm leaving,” she said as she strode over to the door. Pulling it open, she turned back to face them and shouted, “before I happen to kick both of you right in the teeth!”

She descended the stairs to the main area of the bar and they gave chase, calling after her.

Spinning around to face them, she shouted, “and no, I am not shagging Lucius Malfoy!”

She grabbed the door handle and flung herself unceremoniously out the side door, nearly stumbling into the alley. Turning on the spot, she apparated herself as close as she possibly could to the Hogwarts grounds.

Her new novel would have to wait, she had some good old fashioned brooding to do.

 

oOoOoOoOo

After Granger had left the bathroom, Draco wondered at why she seemed so skittish. He decided that she must be fighting her feelings for him, and smirked to himself as he got dressed.

Their relationship had certainly shifted in recent weeks. For a while there it seemed as though things would simply end, but after she cornered him in the library, things had shifted considerably. She was agreeable, adventurous, and always out to please him.

It was kinda fucked up, but the way she acquiesced to whatever he wanted reminded him of his mother.

He wasn't conscious of this at all, because YUCK. But... in the end, we all marry our parents. We want comfort. We want familiarity. We don't actually want to fuck our parents.

Ok this is gonna take a weird turn if we don't move on, so let's!

Anyway, he really started to feel as though she could be the one for him. Sure, their relationship had only been an arrangement of convenience thus far, but she had admitted to having feelings. She had. And he hadn't said it to her himself, but he'd thought back on the conversation with Severus and thought that perhaps the old man had been right. Perhaps they could parlay their fuck-buddy non-relationship into something real.

He had these insatiable urges to pamper her. To spoil her. To publicly declare her his.

Yep, he was in deep and you know what? He really didn't care who knew.

She made him happy. Well, she made his prick happy. His own internal joy was something like an aftershock of all the fucking.

After stopping back at his dorm to finish getting ready for the day, he stepped out into the stone corridor and decided to visit Hogsmeade. Maybe he'd run into Granger and they could try out that truly public sex thing they'd talked about.

The door on the left caught his eye, however, and he decided first to stop in and see his Godfather. It would be painful to admit that he'd fallen for Granger, but perhaps he could get some God-fatherly advice on what to do next.

When he entered the room, he was saddened to see that the frame was empty. He closed the door behind him anyway and approached the frame.

Within seconds, the man slithered into the frame, his gaze instantly fixed upon Draco who raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Did I summon you somehow?”

Looking down his pointed nose, Snape said, “we portraits have a way of knowing when our frames our being looked upon in our absence. What brings you here on this fine Saturday, Draco?”

Draco shifted where he stood. He wanted advice, in theory, but faced with the actual prospect of being honest, he found he was a bit tongue tied.

“You want advice about Miss Granger.”

Draco stared up at the man, incredulous. He wasn't sure whether to be angry or grateful.

“How did you-”

Snape shrugged. “I've been expecting you back for some time now.”

Draco nodded in response, looking away uncomfortably.

“Yes well,” he said, “I supppose I came here to say... that is.... you were right, the last time we spoke.”

Snape raised a brown and nodded his head gravely.

“Indeed. So, you find that you do have feelings for our muggle born witch, is that right?”

“Yes, alright?”

Merlin, it was embarrassing enough to say it once. Okay, he supposed he did care who knew how he felt.

“Well then, Draco, I'm afraid what I need to say is a word of caution.”

Draco looked up, mouth agape.

“Yes, I imagine this will come as a surprised, though I did allude to it last we spoke. Miss Granger is clever and calculating as they come and I dare say she has you caught.”

Draco’s ears grew hot and he was sure they were red. “What do you mean?” he said through gritted teeth.

“I will not expand upon the pronouncement any further, Draco. I would merely advise you to proceed with caution.”

Glaring at the man made of paint, Draco narrowed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths.

“Goodness, boy, do you really think you can read my mind? I am but paint and memory.”

Draco cursed under his breath and began pacing the room.

“Well what good are you to me if you can't tell me WHY you're making these grand pronouncements and warnings?”

“I am a vital asset to you, Draco. I always have been, even if you were too stubborn to accept my help. Do not make the same mistakes a sixteen year old lost boy once did.”

“A lost boy! And who are you, Peter Pan?!”

Snape recoiled, his brow the Arc du Triumph!

“You've started reading muggle books as well. My my my, we are in far greater trouble than I first feared.”

 

oOoOoOoOo

Draco trudged into Hogsmeade determined to clear his head. He wouldn't look for Granger. I mean, if he ran into her, then fine, great, wonderful. He would not look for her, though, and would instead go for a drink. Some of the Slytherins had mentioned grabbing one at The Three Broomsticks, and after the conversation he’d just had, he was quite in need.

He entered the pub and it did not take long for him to spot Blaise and Theo, as the rest of the patrons were giving them a wide berth.

Perfect.

Privacy via anti-purebloodism mixed with homophobia, what a delicious cocktail.

As he approached, they were talking quietly with their heads together, but looked up quickly at the scraping of Draco’s chair across the damp wood floor.

“Enough pillow talk, you have company.”

They both grinned up at him, but Blaise spoke.

“We were just discussing next steps for our little project with your girlfriend.”

“She's not my girlfriend,” Draco growled, but they both just looked amused.

“She's not your girlfriend and I'm not into blokes,” said Theo.

“Hey!” said Blaise.

Theo rolled his eyes. “Sorry... I'm not into Blaise specifically, other blokes have nothing to do with it.”

“Better,” Blaise said with a curt nod, but followed it with a wink.

“Well aren't you two just precious?”

“Not as precious as you and Granger. Have the media gotten wind of it yet? It would be excellent publicity for SPEW,” said Theo.

“That's right!” said Blaise, pointing a proud finger into the air. “The Prophet would be all ‘oh the Death Eater and the Golden Girl! What a scandal!’ but then find some way to spin it if Granger paid them enough.”

“Granger doesn't have the gold to pay off the Prophet,” Draco snapped.

Theo shrugged. “She's getting gold from somewhere; the plan is to open a center here in Britain, and expand out to France and Bulgaria. There was even mention of Australia.”

With a furrowed brow, Draco said, “interesting.”

He wondered how much her order of Merlin had garnered her. It couldn't have been that much. Perhaps Potter was supporting her. Draco had always heard that his parents had left him a small fortune. Merlin knew Weasley couldn't spare it.

He wondered then about her parents. They were healers of some sort, and from the muggle literature he'd read, healers seemed to be extremely respected and well paid. It could be that she had money from them.

If she was actually muggle-rich, though, why hadn't she done anything about her hair and clothing sooner? She'd always been so mousy in their younger years. Perhaps her mother was rich but mousy? Maybe being well groomed didn't matter as much in the muggle world?

Then again, a dozen examples to the contrary went through his mind. Maybe Granger was more of an Elizabeth Bennett type; not adhering to social norms and carving her own path, that is, until she married the richest man around.

Perhaps their story could play out in much the same way. Two people, against all odds, connecting soul to soul.

Only, really, it was nothing like that story at all... or was it?

“Draco, are you alright? You've been staring into oblivion for a few minutes now.”

Draco shook himself.

Back to life. Back to reality.

He would finish his essay on comparing and contrasting his relationship with Granger, with that of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy at another time.

“I'm fine, just... thinking about Granger.”

They both grinned broadly, and so he amended, “about how she's affording all of this!”

“Right.”

“Sure.”

“To Malfoy and Granger!” Blaise said, raising his glass.

“Soon to be the second most controversial couple in Wizarding Britain!”

“Cheers!” they said in unison as their glasses clinked together.

Draco looked away and mumbled, “I need to start drinking.”

 

oOoOoOoOo

Eventually, they made their way out of the Three Broomsticks, all three wizards having grown tired of the stares and glares from other patrons, and went instead to the Hog’s Head. It was significantly less civilized, but tended to attract a crowd they would blend into.

About five minutes after they'd settled in with a drink, Draco’s ear caught on a familiar voice descending from the back stairway.

“before I happen to kick both of you right in the teeth!”

And then she was there, rounding on whoever was up the staircase from her, to shout, “and no, I am not shagging Lucius Malfoy!”

She.

Wasn't what?

Then she was gone, and he saw Pott-Head and the Weasel run out the side door after her, shouting her given name just as he had only a few hours earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	9. An Imminent Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wtf is gonna happen now, y’all?! Read on, read on!!!

Hermione was livid. That entire scene with Harry and Ron had pissed her right the fuck off, and frankly, I’m glad she’s just a character in my story because I feel like she wants to kick my ass for writing it.

Stay on the page, witch! I’m just a muggle!

She went back to her quarters to stew stew stew, without really cooking up any sort of plan for what to do next. She had what now seemed like two ex-best friends, and a weirdly clingy Draco Malfoy in her life, who it was her job to entrap in a loveless marriage.

As she stopped to consider it all, she supposed that she HAD set out to make this year more interesting, and by Fred and George, she’d done it! (RIP the former)

A tapping sound at her window interrupted her simmering thoughts, and she went quickly to retrieve it, realizing instantly that it had come from the manor. Lucius’s bird was a pain in the arse, but she threw him a treat nonetheless, given his long journey and her insatiable need to care for all creatures.

“You’re in the arms of the angels, hope you find some comfort here!” she called as he flew away, the bird clearly not having been instructed to wait for a reply.

She unfurled the small scroll and read.

\--

Miss Granger,

Plans will need to be accelerated, so I do hope you have succeeded thus far in your efforts with Draco. Some startling news has been brought to my attention.

Apparently, your very own Mr. Potter has been paying particular attention to my guest log here at Malfoy Manor ™, and it has become common knowledge that you are making regular visits. If he has not already, expect him to confront you on this.

Furthermore, rumors are now spreading of some sort of liaison between you and I, and these must be squashed forthwith. You will stage the public proposal with Draco within the next week, the sooner the better.

I will leave it up to your discretion whether you need another week before you suggest it to him, though if you have been following my advice, I daresay he has fallen already.

Do not send a return owl, I would like to keep our communication at a minimum after this writing.

Salazar’s Speed, Miss Granger.

-Lucius Malfoy

—

“Holy fuck,” she breathed, as the note fell from her hands and landed on the stone floor with a quiet whoosh.

Like a zombie, she walked into her bathroom and started the shower. Perhaps the hot water would help her think of what to do. Well, that and getting herself off with the magical detachable shower head. Even if it would have to be Draco’s face she pictured, she knew she could get in a few good orgasms before she had to deal with the real world.

 

oOoOoOoOo

Draco returned to the castle with haste, closely followed by his two friends who were bludgeoning him with questions the entire way. He would have aparated, but didn’t want to risk splinching given that he was so unfocused.

“I had no idea Granger was into older men; I thought she fancied you!”

“She does,” he said, "didn’t you hear her? She said she is NOT shagging my father.”

“Oh yes,” Blaise said sarcastically. “And usually when I have to shout my denial in a crowded pub is when I am resolutely telling the truth.”

Draco growled to himself, continuing to stomp towards the castle and wishing he could be alone. They mostly bickered between themselves all the way back, though, so he was left with his thoughts.

He had wanted to catch up to Granger, but she’d been nowhere in sight. She’d apparated, so she couldn’t have been too rattled. Unless, like with so many other things, she was just better at aparating than he was.

No, had to be the other reason. She wasn’t rattled. Which meant… that she WAS shagging his father? Or that she wasn’t?

Blast it all, he had to talk to her.

He made his way back into the castle, still flanked by his gay bffs who were refusing to give up their front row seats to the Malfoy Granger reality show. But what could the title of the show be?

Dramione Unleashed! No, untethered. That’s my first thought title suggestion, put yours in the comments, thx.

When he reached her private quarters, he gave the password without thinking and walked in.

She was nowhere in sight, but he thought he heard the shower running. He stepped in to the familiar, sunlight living room, Blaise and Theo following in his wake.

“Damn, this is nice! Why hasn’t Granger invited us here for our meetings about house elf liberation?”

“Probably because she doesn’t want to give you two ideas about sneaking in and having super gay sex everywhere.”

“What makes it super?” asked Theo.

“You don’t think it’s super?” said Blaise.

“No of course I do! I just meant-”

“Hey, will you two keep it down? And get out of here, she’s clearly indisposed.”

Blaise and Theo stilled, staring at Draco with mischievous looks on their faces.

“What?” Draco said.

“Nothing” they said in unison.

“It’s just…” Theo said, glancing at Blaise. “We’ve um, talked about a… well, a bit of a shared fantasy of ours, is all.”

“Theo, I hardly think this is the time-“

“Oh and when WOULD be the time?”

“What are you two on about?” Draco asked, annoyed.

“We want to watch,” they said, again, in unison.

“You what?” Draco shouted.

“Shhh!” “Keep it down!” they said, glancing over to her bedroom.

“You two want to watch me and Granger fuck?”

“Yes that’s right.” “Correct.”

“But… you’re gay.”

“Yes,” said Blaise, laughing. “You keep needing to mention that.”

“Sexuality is a spectrum, Malfoy. Taste the rainbow,” Theo said with a wink.

“We both like to watch,” Blaise said, “and we aren't fussed about the pairings, except there's something about you with Granger that is especially intriguing and neither of us even know why.”

“Probably your abandonment issues,” Draco said without missing a beat, and they both blinked.

“Excuse me?” they said, again, in unison.

“You heard me. Someone disappointed you when you were young. They were supposed to be there, but they weren't. Probably both your Dads. Then, you see this pairing of a bully and the girl he used to bully, but instead of hating one another they have sex, and something about it feels like it's healing your wound, but it's more like Firewhisky. Just numbing it out for a small period of time, until you need another shot.”

They both stood before him, mouths agape, unable to say a word.

Finally, Theo said, “well, FUCK.”

There was a lot of that happening in this room on this particular day.

“Well alright then. I assume that puts to rest this bizarre request to watch Granger and I tear one another apart?”

“Oh no,” Blaise said. “We still really want to see that,” Theo finished.

Draco was about to respond, but something caught his eye. There was a letter on the ground in the middle of the otherwise meticulously clean room. He walked over and bent to retrieve it, feeling his stomach turn as soon as he recognized the handwriting in the letter.

His father.

He read and re-read the note over and over, dimly aware of Blaise and Theo chattering to one another about the variety of books on the shelves, and sexual positions available using couches and armchairs.

She was not shagging his father. That was clear.

She was, however, fucking Draco royally.

In slow motion, the past few weeks played back through his mind. She’d been extraordinarily accommodating, ever since their month long break and their reconciliation in the library. Her penance, really.

But she hadn’t been penitent at all, she had been playing him.

And all for a marriage proposal? Orchestrated by his father?

Anger rose within him, and he felt the acute sense of embarrassment over how he’d let himself fall for her. Not just for her trick, but for her. And he’d actually fallen. It was a testament to how real his feelings were that his anger had already mostly abated.

In truth, it kind of made him want her more. Just the fact that she’d outsmarted him made him want to fuck her brains out against a wall… but also he wanted to hurt her. Just a little bit.

But why had his father agreed to this? He thought for a long moment about what could have possibly possessed his father to…

Then it clicked.

Lucius had written to him at the start of the year, encouraging him to befriend those he had previously been enemies with as a way of bolstering trust in their family name. He’d burned every letter, uninterested in his father’s plans. He’d have rather shriveled up and rotted then try to get the greater wizarding world to accept him. His father, however, had been obsessed.

Of COURSE he would have jumped at the chance to help The Golden Girl herself.

And now she was working with him. Had this been her design all along?

She’d been tasked with getting Draco to agree to marry her within the next week.

Well, that was interesting. Yes, very interesting news.

He placed the letter back down onto the floor where he’d found it and turned to his friends, who stopped talking as if it had been choreographed.

“Alright, I can make it happen,” he said, and their eyes lit up. “Just, not today. I need you two to leave so I can be alone with her. You know, convince her of the idea. But when I do, I need something from you both in return.”

Blaise pointed to Theo. “He’s the best with rim jobs, I’m crap at it. Pun-tended.”

“What?! I am not. You’re spectacular!”

Blaise grinned. “Thanks, I know. I just wanted to hear you say that,” he said, turning back to Draco. “I’ll lick your arsehole, Malfoy, just say the word.”

Draco grimaced. “No! That’s not what I want. I need something in regards to the house elf charity. It might involve you abruptly pulling out when I say so.”

“Oh so we’re talking about pearl necklaces?”

“Pulling out of the charity board!”

They both shrugged. “Sure.” “Whatever you need.”

Then they turned to one another, and throwing their arms in the air in identical motions, said, “We get to watch Dramione fuck!”

The water turned off with a distant squeak, and they all turned their heads.

“Out. Now, you two!” Draco whisper-shouted.

Blaise and Theo moved toward the exit, mouthing a whole bunch of stuff that was absolutely impossible to understand, but then, characters in fan fiction often mouth impossible sentences and yet the other characters in the scene magically understand them every time (because, magic) so Draco caught ALL of it, and knew exactly when they would be meeting up again to discuss the plan, as well as what Theo and Blaise were planning to do for dinner, and their guesses on whether Granger would emerge nude or robed from her shower.

And then they were gone.

Her door opened.

The answer, was nude.

 

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione stepped into her living room with the intention of retrieving the bathrobe she’d left on the couch the night before, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Malfoy standing before her looking livid.

Or was he? He had a burning look in his eye that could mean anything from anger to sexual frustration.

They’d just fucked that morning, though. How frustrated could he be?

Then again, she’d just gotten herself off three times, so perhaps it made perfect sense.

“Malfoy, what are you doing here?”

His expression softened and he smiled. “You know, I think I would like for you to call me Draco from now on.” Then, he strode towards her, and she could not believe that she felt her cunt begin to throb anew. “Not just when I have my tongue up your arse.”

He was kissing her, and it was so similar to what she’d just been fantasizing about that she lost her breath as he swept her into his arms. Their tongues slid over one another, both of them releasing subtle moans at the contact.

Gods, she loved the taste of him. If she was going to be in a forced marriage with anyone, she could do a lot worse, she thought.

In fact, it could be rather fun to be married to him. They could have their own wing of the manor. Fuck all over the place. Free his elves and give them paid vacation.

Ugh, her cunt was dripping at the thought, and as if on cue, he unzipped his trousers, grabbed up one of her legs, and thrust into her, pinning her against the wall. His cock slid in, pressing tightly against her fluttering walls, and she clenched down on him. Kegel practice was really paying off.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Draco,” she said.

“Scream it.”

“Draco!”

“Again.”

“DRACO! Oh, oh, fuck, I’m coming already!”

“Oh fuck, Hermione,” he growled. “I could fuck you like this every day for the rest of my life.”

She was mid climax, and there was no stopping it once it started, but her brain wanted it to stop so she could take in what he’d said.

“What?!” she shouted, just as her orgasm crested, so it came out all squeaky and funny.

Still pounding into her relentlessly, clearly chasing his own release, he said, “You heard me, witch.”

She supposed she had, though she could hardly believe it. Could it really be this easy?

“Marry me, then,” she said with bold conviction.

That seemed to send him right over the edge, because he thrust hard, and ground against her, pressing her into the wall a bit harder than was comfortable. It hurt a little bit.

His hot cum poured into her, and she felt herself throb, receiving it fully.

If it weren’t for contraceptive spells, she could have had like ten babies by now.

Panting, but smiling, he leaned back to look at her without pulling out.

“Oh no you don’t. You think I’m going to let you be the one to propose?” he said.

The grin on his face was so genuine, and she felt her heart skip in her chest. Was this real? He really wanted to marry her?

She did not know how to feel about this. On the one hand, yay! Problem solved. On the other…

Draco Malfoy genuinely, truly, and of his own volition, wanted to marry her?

Well, of his own volition… sort of. She had been emotionally manipulating the fuck out of him for weeks, but then again… her own emotions felt rather twisted in that moment.

“I suppose not,” she said with a simpering smile.

He grabbed his wand and cast cleaning charms where necessary, and then ran a hand through his hair before leaning in to kiss her sweetly on the lips.

“You’ll have to wait, then.”

She supposed she would… but hopefully not more than a week?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll wait a week to find out. This, we know.


End file.
